Happily Ever After
by Kimberly-A
Summary: Dan proposes marriage, but Phil's reaction isn't quite what he'd been expecting or hoping for.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**Author's Note:** This fic is going to include significant amounts of angst, but its primary theme is going to be the fluffy fact that loving, committed couples can face even the most difficult problems and resolve them by working together in a supportive, compassionate way. It's going to take a while, though, and will sometimes get rocky along the way. I've been posting it on AO3 and Tumblr (where I am "adorkablephil" in both places), but hadn't gotten around to posting it here yet, so I'm posting 3 chapters at once. I hope to be a bit more prompt about posting the rest of the chapters here. :)

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 **Chapter 1: Prologue**

Dan opened the black velvet box and looked at the two slim platinum bands nestled inside. In one, a small embedded circle of onyx glittered—in the other, a complementary circle of aquamarine. He knew it was more traditional to offer a single engagement ring when proposing, but it seemed to him more appropriate that he wear a ring as well. He and Phil were equals in this relationship, and both of them would be engaged to be married, so both of them should wear rings as a sign of that commitment.

Another black velvet box in the bedside drawer they never used, since they always slept in Phil's room, held the two simple platinum bands that they would exchange when they spoke their actual vows.

He didn't know why he was so nervous! After all, he had little doubt that Phil would say yes. They'd been happily committed to each other for several years and had endured many ups and downs, but had always faced all life's challenges together and overcome them. In the past couple years, they had spoken often of the future and made many bright plans. They were _de facto_ members of each other's families already. It was just … time to make it official.

Excited butterflies stirred in Dan's stomach.

He pictured Phil's face when he pulled out the rings and said the heartfelt words he had practiced so many times in the mirror when Phil wasn't home. He pictured Phil's tremulous smile. He wondered if Phil might tear up. He thought he'd come up with a pretty romantic proposal, if he did say so himself. Yes, they'd already talked many times about future plans together, but there would only be one moment when one of them actually proposed, and the other actually said yes, and they actually agreed that they were going to get married and spend the rest of their lives together. Dan wanted to make that moment as special as possible, so he'd tried to put all his feelings into words and couldn't wait to look into Phil's eyes when he spoke them.

He couldn't decide where to put the precious box. It didn't feel right to just put it in his suitcase, but it would also feel a little weird to carry it in his pocket during their entire trip to the Isle of Man. In the end, he decided that his coat pocket was really the only safe place.

"Hey, you ready to go? The taxi should be here any minute." Phil poked his head into the room. Dan smiled fondly at him and nodded, then zipped up his suitcase and put on his coat before they headed together toward the front door, pulling their luggage behind them.

When they boarded the plane, Dan declined to put his coat in the overhead bin and instead just took his seat wearing it, even though it really was too warm. He put his hand in his pocket many times during the flight, each time cradling that small velvet box in his hand and imagining the moment when he would get Phil alone at the edge of the crashing ocean waves and finally give the little speech that would start the rest of their lives together.

He glanced at Phil whenever he imagined that moment, and he admired the paleness of his lover's skin and how his dark hair fell across his forehead and how his soft lips pursed slightly with concentration on whatever he was reading on his laptop. Occasionally Phil would glance up and catch his eye and smile.

 _This stunningly beautiful, wonderful man is going to be my husband,_ Dan thought, holding the secret close and cherishing it. _Our happily ever after starts on this very trip, and he doesn't even know it yet._


	2. Chapter 2: Blessings

**Chapter 2: Blessings**

While they were waiting at Baggage Claim, Dan pulled out his phone and started texting. Luckily, Phil was used to this antisocial behavior on Dan's part and just seemed to amuse himself with people-watching while they waited for the machine to start whirring and spitting out bags.

 _To: Phil's Mum_

 _Hello, Kathryn. We've arrived at the airport and will be on our way shortly. I have a favor to ask, though. I would really like to speak to all of you for a bit without Phil there. Is there any way we could find some time alone, maybe today or tomorrow?_

Dan always used capital letters, punctuation, and relatively correct grammar when texting either of Phil's parents, as a gesture of respect. He'd only just put his phone back in his pocket when it dinged.

 _From: Phil's Mum_

 _So happy you boys have arrived safely and we look forward to seeing you! Martyn and Cornelia are already here. I'm quite intrigued by your mysterious request, but of course we can find a way. When you arrive, after you've settled in, I'll send Phil out for leeks._

Leeks? Dan's brow furrowed as he pondered the eccentricities of Kathryn Lester. Where had she come up with **leeks** , of all things, as the manufactured distraction to get Phil out of the house? But, sure enough, after he and Phil arrived at the Lesters' residence and had greeted everyone and settled into their room, Kathryn asked Phil to run to the shops, because she'd forgotten to get the leeks she needed for the soup for dinner.

"You want **me** to drive your car to the shops?" Phil asked incredulously.

"Yes, dear. It won't take but a moment." Kathryn smiled, all innocence.

Phil eyed her in confusion, knowing that his parents were well aware of his lack of driving expertise, but then shrugged. "Okay I guess. Let's go," he said, turning to Dan.

Dan looked in dismay to Phil's parents and saw them exchange a look as well. "Oh no, Phil, leave Dan with us!" Phil's dad exclaimed. "We'd love to catch up a bit!"

Phil frowned, looking even more puzzled, and glanced at Dan, who gently shooed him out the door. "I'll be fine. See you when you get back." They didn't often kiss in front of Phil's parents, but Dan kissed him on the cheek to reassure him and Phil left.

"So what's this all about?" Phil's mum asked Dan almost immediately after the door had closed behind Phil's retreating back.

Dan cleared his throat. "Um. Could we all sit down?" He gestured awkwardly toward the lounge. Not only Phil's parents but also Martyn and Cornelia seated themselves and Dan perched on the edge of one of the chairs.

"Okay. So. You've all been really nice to me for so many years. And Phil has made me so happy. And I think I've made Phil happy, too. And you've made me feel almost like a part of your family…"

Phil's mum interrupted him. "Dan, love, you've been a member of this family since the first time you walked through that door." Dan refrained from pointing out that the first time he'd come through that door, the rest of the family had been out of town, and he and Phil had gotten up to some antics his parents probably would not have approved of at the time.

Instead, Dan smiled at her in thanks, then continued, "Well, I would sort of … well … I'd like to make it official. Be officially a part of your family." He looked from face to face, feeling a bit nervous even as he knew how much they cared about him. "I know it might seem kind of old-fashioned, but I really respect and love you all and I was hoping to get your blessing…"

"You're getting married!" Cornelia squealed and jumped out of her seat to run over and hug Dan tightly. He returned the hug with a huff of relieved laughter.

Dan's parents were beaming at him and Martyn came to give him a hug with an affectionate slap on the back.

"Oh sweetheart!" Dan's mum gushed, tears in her eyes. "I couldn't be more happy for you and my sweet Philly. I'm sure you'll be so happy together. Of course, you already are, but … oh, my baby getting married! I knew you two would eventually!"

Both Phil's parents came to hug Dan as he explained quickly, "I haven't actually said anything to Phil yet. I wanted to get your blessing first."

Phil's father's gaze was fond as he said, "We've been hoping for this for years, Dan. We've seen the two of you together and seen how happy you make our boy, and we just … knew." He shook Dan's hand, which felt a bit formal after they'd already hugged, but it also felt officially fatherly in an old-fashioned way and Dan found he liked it. "You're the right one for our Phil," Phil's father said firmly. "You had our blessing long before you asked for it."

Now it was Dan who was tearing up, but he looked around at Phil's family and felt the love and acceptance they were all radiating toward him, and he couldn't help but smile through the tears. He laughed a little. "I guess now I just have to get him alone at some point. I was hoping to ask him down by the beach…"

"Don't you worry," Kathryn assured him. "We'll all go for one of our walks tomorrow, and the rest of us will find some excuse to come home and give you two your privacy."

Kathryn was true to her word. The six of them took a walk together along the shore the next afternoon, until Phil's dad said his back was hurting and he wanted to head back. Everyone agreed, but Kathryn shooed Dan and Phil to continue on. "No reason you boys can't enjoy a romantic walk on the beach alone!" She winked at Dan.

Phil rolled his eyes, laughing. "You ship us more than our fans do!"

Kathryn replied pertly, "That's because I know it's all true, dear."

Dan pulled at Phil's hand. "Come on. Let's walk just a bit more, then we can head back."

They walked in companionable silence for a while, as they had so many times before. But this time was different. Phil just didn't know it yet.

"You're my best friend, you know." Dan began after a while.

Phil's laugh was like wind chimes with the sound of the ocean. "I think the entire internet knows that, Dan." He turned to grin, and Dan returned the bright smile.

They continued walking hand-in-hand for a while before Dan continued, "I think being best friends is the best foundation for a relationship. I think that's why things have been so good for us for so long." Phil just nodded amiably, looking out at the gray sea that stretched to the pale blue horizon.

"I know you, all the good and bad, and you know me just as well. You accept me the way I am, and I accept you exactly the way you are. We respect each other, and I think that's key to a good relationship, too." Dan wasn't watching his feet as they walked. He was watching Phil's face, and Phil was beginning to look a little uncomfortable, but maybe it was just that he was starting to realize where this was going and maybe he'd been planning to propose soon, too. Dan felt just the tiniest bit smug that he'd gotten here first.

He stopped walking, and the clasp of their hands forced Phil to a stop, too. Dan reached out his other hand to cradle Phil's cheek and turned his face so that they were looking into each other's eyes. Phil's eyes were somehow the same color as both the sky and sea right now, but still with that magical circle of yellow in the center. Like the sun couldn't help but always shine a little from within him, showing that tiny bit through his eyes.

"I am in love with you, Philip Lester. And I know in the depths of my heart, I **know** for sure that I will never say those words to another person for the rest of my life. You are it for me." Dan smiled, but those butterflies were going crazy in his stomach now. This was the start of the proper speech he'd been practicing in the bathroom mirror so many times. These were the words he would always remember, and that would hopefully mean as much to Phil.

"I trust you with everything that I am," Dan continued earnestly, "and I am infinitely honored every time you show me that you trust me the same way. I believe in our bond, that it's been forged through years of partnership and respect and love, that it is stronger than anything that can possibly be thrown our way." Phil's eyes had widened. He clearly did know what was happening now, and Dan knew that the dawning smile of joy would emerge soon.

Dan dropped his hand from Phil's face to take both Phil's hands in his, facing him and still looking into his eyes, wanting Phil to see the wholeness of the love sufficing every molecule of his body. "But listen to this part, Phil, because this is important. You also make me laugh. That may not sound so important, but you have made me laugh every single day that we've been together. **Every single day.** " Dan marveled at that thought alone, as he always did when he thought about it. How could one person have that much power to bring brightness and light to the darkness he'd always thought was his only possible fate? He swallowed, a little overwhelmed, and continued, "Even during my darkest times, times when I wasn't sure I even wanted to keep going, when I was on the verge of giving up, you always found some way of making me see something funny and could always make me laugh. And laughter is healing. You **healed** me, Phil. You heal me a little more every day, every time you make me laugh. You make me a little more whole." He thought of those times at university and immediately after, the many times he had doubted himself or lost faith, the times the darkness had crept insidiously to take him over, and Phil had still always managed to make him see some good in the world. Dan's heart felt tight in his chest. He loved this man so much!

"You have been there for me, you have trusted in me, you have believed in me, and you have made me so **very** happy … and I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make you as happy as you can possibly be, every day for the rest of our lives." The sheer emotion of the moment made Dan's eyes sting, but he wasn't going to cry. He had sort of hoped, just a little, that Phil might cry, but Phil was just staring into his eyes as if frozen.

"So … what do you say?" He released Phil's hands to reach into his pocket and take out the small velvet box, opening it to show Phil the two rings lying together inside. "Want to spend the rest of our lives making each other happy?" He smiled and looked into Phil's eyes again.

But Phil just stared at him in apparent disbelief. The silence stretched and began to grow uncomfortable. Sure, Phil could be pretty awkward and might not know what to say in an emotionally intense situation, but this was getting ridiculous. Dan started to ramble nervously, "I know most people get down on one knee, but this beach is pretty rocky and I thought it might hurt. And, anyway, I wanted us to be both standing up, face-to-face, as equals, just like we are every day in our lives together." He smiled again, hoping. Waiting. Starting to feel a little afraid.

Phil still hadn't said anything. His mouth was slightly open and white showed all around the sky-ocean irises of his eyes. Dan waited. Nothing. Phil was breathing fast. Dan looked down at his black zippered shoes on the gray stones of the beach, then back up at Phil's pale pace. His skin was so pale it looked almost white. Or maybe even gray. Dan was getting pretty nervous now. Not the good kind of nervous with the butterflies in his stomach, but the bad kind of nervous with the **knot** in his stomach. He didn't understand what was happening. Phil wasn't supposed to look like that. He was supposed to be smiling his sunniest, happiest smile, whooping for joy and swinging Dan into his arms for a kiss that promised forever. Dan didn't understand the expression on Phil's face, an expression he'd never seen in the many years they'd been together, and so he couldn't seem to stop his mouth, as if he could still perhaps salvage this situation.

"These are just the engagement rings, of course. I thought we could both wear one, to show that we're equal, that we're equally committed. The other rings match, but they're simpler. No stones. I left them at home. For the ceremony, you know?" But Dan was beginning to realize that maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe there wasn't going to be a ceremony. Because it was becoming increasingly apparent that Phil's expression was not shocked happiness. It was something Dan thought maybe he was starting to understand and wished he wasn't seeing.

He'd never considered this possible outcome. Phil was going to say no.

Phil wasn't meeting his gaze anymore, instead staring down at the rocky beach beneath their feet. Or maybe his shoes. Dan didn't know, but found himself wondering. It was a silly thing to be thinking about right now. He thought maybe he was literally in shock. Maybe he should go to A&E. He'd ask Kathryn her opinion when they got back to the house. What were the signs of shock? You were supposed to wrap the person in blankets, right?

"Can I think about it?" The words were slightly hoarse, not sounding like Phil at all, but they jerked Dan out of the A&E and back to the beach. He looked into Phil's eyes, which looked troubled.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

"Yeah, sure, of course, I mean, obviously, of course," Dan babbled automatically, nodding in a rapid, jerky motion like a marionette having a seizure. Phil wasn't supposed to need to think about it. Hadn't they both been building toward this moment for years? Hadn't they discussed their future _ad nauseum_? Hadn't they **both** been thinking about this for a while now? What did Phil still need to think about?

"We should head back," Phil said, turning away to look down the beach, and his voice sounded as blank and dead as Dan was feeling. "You're shaking from the cold." Dan knew it wasn't the cold, but he didn't contradict Phil's words. He just nodded again, stiff and uncoordinated, not meeting Phil's gaze. Doubting Phil was even looking at him.

They walked back down the beach toward the house in silence, not holding hands this time … like two total strangers who just happened to have wandered into walking side-by-side purely by accident. Not two people who had been growing closer and closer over the course of years. As if they didn't know each other at all.

Dan realized Phil was right. He **was** shaking.

His entire **world** was shaking.


	3. Chapter 3: Confusion

**Chapter 3: Confusion**

Dan made sure he was the first one in the door. He saw Kathryn look up with an excited smile on her face and he gave his head a quick shake, frowning slightly. She looked confused, and Dan realized the others were sitting nearby also and had seen him. They were looking at each other questioningly when Phil came in behind Dan and closed the door.

Phil forced a smile, probably not even noticing the strange looks his family were exchanging, and said immediately, "I'm feeling tired. Think I'll take a nap until dinner." He turned and walked down the hallway toward the guest room without even waiting for a response. He hadn't even glanced at Dan before walking away.

Knowing that he owed the others some explanation, Dan walked into the lounge and just stood there for a minute, four faces looking at him expectantly. He really didn't want to have to talk about this right now, but he'd gotten them all involved by talking to them in the first place, so he needed to sort this out.

"He says he needs to think about it," he said quietly, then shrugged, feeling lost and alone even in this room of people he knew loved and supported him and Phil both. "I … I don't know what's going on. And I don't really … I don't really want to talk about it more right now." His voice broke on the last word and he turned to go, then realized that the only place he could go was their room, and Phil was already there. He was 100% certain that Phil did not want to see him right now. That reminded him.

He turned back to Phil's family and added, "He doesn't know that I told you … you know … about what I was going to do. So … don't … don't bug him about it, okay? I don't know what's going on, but he seems upset, so maybe he just needs some time. Or he wouldn't have just … run off like that … and left me standing here…" Fuck. He was crying now. He had to get out of here, but Phil's mum had jumped out of her chair and was hugging him. It was the last thing he needed, because it was just going to make him cry harder. He gently extricated himself from her grasp and gave her a watery smile.

"I'm gonna go … um …" He had no idea where he should go when he couldn't retreat to the guest room. He thought quickly. "I'm gonna go out for a walk on my own. Just … get some fresh air." He tried to smile at them all, but he knew he was doing a crap job of it. He needed to escape all their sympathetic eyes. What he really wanted was his own bedroom at home, but that was hundreds of miles away. He had nowhere to go where he could hide to lick his wounds. The best he could do was just get out, away where he wouldn't have anyone looking at him, where he could try to figure out what the fuck just happened.

Kathryn patted his shoulder gently and said, "You do what you need to, dear. I'm sorry it didn't go as you hoped. I don't know what that boy is…"

But Dan interrupted her. He really couldn't talk about this right now. "Just … I need to go, okay? I'll be back, but I need to be on my own for a bit." He tried another smile. They were feeling less convincing every time. He decided that a rapid escape was the best course of action and just turned and walked toward the door, not caring that he was being unforgivably rude. He went out and closed the door behind him, then stood on the welcome mat, just looking around him for a long moment. Where was he supposed to go? He decided he didn't want to go back to the beach that had been the site of that complete, soul-destroying disaster, so instead he turned toward the hills leading inland from the Lesters' home and just began walking, his hands in his pockets and his head down.

He walked for about an hour, not even noticing where he was going, not really paying attention to how much time had passed. He happened upon a large rock and sat down, looking out over the beautiful view of the fields and flowers and beach and sea, and he cried out his despairing confusion.

It was past dark when Dan got back to the house. He'd sat too long on that stone, just trying to figure out how he could have been so wrong, how he could have misunderstood Phil so badly when he'd thought they were as close as two people could be. In truth, he didn't understand anything. He felt adrift, unmoored, uncertain of his future where a day ago he had been so certain. That expression on Phil's face on the beach … Dan's heart literally hurt in his chest when he thought of it.

The darkness had gathered during his walk back to the house, and he'd become increasingly aware of how inappropriate and rude his long absence would seem. He'd lost track of time and how far he'd walked. He hoped he hadn't worried Phil's parents. He didn't even had his phone with him, so he wouldn't have been able to text, even if there was any service.

He knocked on the door when he got there. He'd never come to the door by himself, only ever with Phil, and he didn't feel comfortable just walking in like they'd always done when they arrived together. His shoulders were hunched and he was cold and miserable and he just wanted Phil to hug him and tell him it was all a mistake and for everything to be good again. But he was pretty darn sure that wasn't going to happen.

Phil's dad opened the door, looking puzzled. "Why'd you knock?" he asked, clearly honestly confused.

"I didn't want to just … come in. I mean…"

Phil's dad pulled him through the doorway and into another unexpected hug. They'd never hugged before this visit, and Dan wasn't entirely comfortable with it, but he appreciated the sentiment. He hesitantly hugged back but stepped away fairly quickly.

"You never have to knock on our door, Dan. You're family to us, no matter what."

Dan looked at the floor, hands still in his pockets, and nodded. "I know I probably missed dinner," he said awkwardly. "I hope you guys weren't worried. Maybe I can just grab a sandwich or something?"

"Kathryn kept a plate for you in the oven. You just go on in there and she'll get you set up."

Dan nodded again and walked toward the kitchen. As he passed, he saw Phil sitting in the lounge with Martyn and Cornelia, playing a card game. Phil froze when his eyes met Dan's, then he nodded and smiled, but it didn't look very genuine. He looked as uncomfortable as Dan felt.

In the kitchen, Kathryn set him down at the table with a plate of roast chicken and vegetables. She was a good cook, but he didn't taste a bite of it. After he'd eaten, she whisked away his plate and he reluctantly went to the lounge to join the others, trying to act like everything was normal.

The evening was a farce.

Phil was by turns monosyllabic and desperately cheerful. Dan kept obviously and unsuccessfully trying not to watch Phil for clues about what the fuck was going on in his head. Everyone else tried to pretend that they weren't desperately confused and curious about what was going on between the two.

Cornelia suggested a game of Monopoly. The four younger people sat down to play, while Phil's mum and dad sat nearby, each reading a book but keeping aware enough to contribute to the conversation occasionally.

No one was paying much attention to the game, and eventually Phil—the annoyingly obsessive person who would never let anyone up from the table until the game was finished, no matter how late it went—apologized barely halfway into the game to say, "I don't know why I'm so tired! But I think I'm going to go ahead and settle into bed for the night. Sorry to leave you guys before the game is done." And then he was gone before anyone even had a chance to react. Not even an affectionate or reassuring touch to Dan's shoulder. In fact, not even a glance in Dan's direction.

Dan quickly excused himself, because this was getting ridiculous. "I want to get a chance to talk to him before he goes to sleep. Sorry." But the family all encouraged him to follow Phil, offering supportive but sad smiles.

When Dan opened the door to their guest room, Phil was in the process of changing into his pyjamas. He started violently and looked toward the doorway, clutching his t-shirt to his bare chest. He relaxed only slightly when he saw who it was.

"Sorry if I scared you," Dan said, a little hurt that Phil's shoulders were still so tense after he'd seen that it was only him.

Phil shrugged, pulling the t-shirt over his head and then looking at the bed instead of at Dan. "S'okay," he mumbled, looking like he'd rather have a root canal than be in Dan's presence right now. "I'm just going to play Animal Crossing for a little while and then go to sleep."

"Mind if I join you and scroll the Tumbs?" Dan asked, trying to force some lightness into his tone. This was the sort of thing they did almost every night, but right now he felt like he was begging for any tiny scrap of Phil's attention. Okay, not even his attention, but at least his willingness to be near Dan for a little while by themselves.

Phil's face did a funny thing. Not funny ha ha, but funny unfamiliar. Phil never looked like that … like he'd swallowed a bug. Except maybe that one time when he'd accidentally swallowed a bug. But he gave a sickly smile and said, "Sure." It came out sounding like "Please leave me the fuck alone," but Dan chose to ignore the tone in favor of Phil's spoken permission.

Dan changed into his pyjamas while Phil settled on the bed under the covers with his phone. When Dan lifted the covers to slide inside, he felt like he was invading a stranger's territory. Why had Phil pulled away from him so completely? Why was everything so fucked up on the night he'd expected to be one of the happiest in their lives? He did a Tumblr search for "depressing meme" and spent a while scrolling.

They didn't speak at all until Phil said suddenly, "Well, I'm going to get some sleep. Good night." He pressed a quick, tense kiss to Dan's cheek and lay down on his side, facing away from Dan.

"Um. Okay. Sounds like a good idea." Dan turned out the light and lay on his back beside Phil's form that radiated discomfort.

He lay there staring at the dark ceiling for a long time, but Phil's breath never evened out. Apparently neither of them could fall asleep.

Finally, Dan said softly, "I'm sorry I freaked you out. I didn't mean to. But now I feel like you've completely pulled away from me."

Phil's voice sounded slow and reluctant when he replied, "I just need some time to think."

Dan couldn't help it. He and Phil had always been able to talk about anything. He wasn't used to reigning in his thoughts and feelings around this person who knew him and accepted him best. Dan whispered into the dark room, "I'm honestly not trying to push you, Phil, but … can you give me any kind of idea of how long you think you'll need? I'm dying here."

"Yes, that **is** pushing," Phil grouched back, and then didn't say anything more.

Dan took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. This just … I didn't expect any of this, and I'm a little thrown."

" **You're** thrown?" Phil exclaimed derisively, still facing away. " **You're** the one who came up with this out of nowhere and then sprang it on me **here**! With my whole family around!"

Dan felt defensive. "I thought the beach would be romantic, and that we'd want to share the good news with them and … celebrate." Phil didn't reply, and Dan's hurt finally transformed into anger. He didn't deserve this kind of treatment. Phil had never shut him out like this before, especially not when he knew Dan might be feeling vulnerable. Dan continued sarcastically, "Yeah, I realize now that I was being stupid. I'm so sorry I've inconvenienced you with my ill-timed declaration that I want to spend the rest of my life with you!"

Phil rolled over to face him, rubbing his hand hard against his forehead and sounding the most unhappy Dan had ever heard him. "It's just … now we're stuck in here together and I can't even go sleep in another room to get a bit of space."

Dan's temper flared. Phil wished he had a separate fucking room to go to? They hadn't slept in different rooms in years, except in public for appearance's sake. "You don't even want to sleep in the same bed with me? Fine! Fucking fine! I won't go out and sleep on the couch and worry your parents even more than they already are, but I **will** sleep on the goddamn fucking floor."

He jerked the duvet off the bed and stood up, walking through the pitch dark room to where he remembered a Dan-sized stretch of carpet on the floor. He lay down with his heart racing and his face hot with righteous indignation. Phil was a compete prick. Dan didn't say anything more, though, just lay there on the floor, stewing in his own fury.

That lasted maybe half an hour. And then he just felt sad and confused and exhausted. He spent the rest of the night lying there, gradually accepting the previously inconceivable idea that Phil actually wished he wasn't around.

He knew Phil. Phil wouldn't be acting like this without a really good reason. Dan stopped feeling angry and started worrying about Phil, and whether this was going to mess everything up for them. If Dan pushed him, would Phil pull far enough away from him to destroy everything they'd built? Would this trip end the exact opposite way of what Dan had hoped and expected? Would he drive Phil away instead of bringing him closer?

When light began to seep into the room, Dan crept quietly to fetch his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and went to work on trying to minimize his own torment, and probably Phil's as well. He couldn't stand this coldness between them. It was breaking his heart.

Sometime after about a million hours of these thoughts, Dan heard noises elsewhere in the house. He got up and dressed as quietly as possible. Phil appeared to be sleeping soundly. It hurt Dan's feelings a little bit that Phil was able to rest so easily while Dan had lain awake filled with angst all night. But he knew Phil could fall asleep anytime and anywhere, so after his initial visceral reaction, he felt a rush of affection for his funny Phil who could sleep through a nuclear attack, let alone a bit of relationship drama.

Dan crept to the kitchen, where he could hear noises. He arrived to find Kathryn surrounded by ingredients and placing unidentifiable lumps onto a baking pan. She turned to look at him and explained in a hush, "Cinnamon rolls for later, when everyone wakes up."

She turned back to her work, but glanced at him occasionally as he leaned tiredly against the doorframe. "How are you doing, dear? I won't ask anything more about what's going on, but a blind man could see that you're both hurting."

Dan hesitated, but then admitted, "I got up early this morning and changed my ticket. It seems like he could use some space, and it's hard for me being here. So I'm heading home today."

Kathryn gasped and turned around with doughy hands. "Oh, we were so looking forward to seeing you for longer, Dan! Are you sure you need to leave? Maybe this is all a misunderstanding, and you and Phil…"

Dan shook his head and said, "He needs time away from me right now. I don't know what's going on for him, but he clearly doesn't want me here."

Kathryn took a step toward him and insisted, "I'm sure that isn't true, Dan! We all know how much he loves you!"

"But right now I guess he's going through something, and he doesn't want to talk about it. Not with me. Maybe with you, after I've left. I think he could use some supportive family time without me hanging around." He felt miserable, but he knew this was the right thing to do. Then he added as adamantly as he could when talking to Phil's mum, "Just … promise me you won't harass him about the proposal thing."

She sighed, turning back to her cinnamon rolls. "If you think that's best, I'll make sure no one mentions it. If he brings it up, though…"

"If he wants to talk about it, I know you'll be there for him." He tried to turn his lips into a grateful smile, but they wouldn't budge. He hoped the look in his eyes was enough.

The Lester household slowly stirred to wakefulness, and people began to trickle into the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively at the smell of cinnamon rolls baking. Phil, however, did not emerge. Dan explained to everyone that he was going to be leaving today, and faced their incredulity, silencing their objections with a firm, "I need to do this. I'm sorry."

They ate breakfast without Phil, who had still not appeared.

Eventually, Dan needed to pack his suitcase before Phil's dad would drive him to the airport, so he hesitantly went to their room. He felt an absurd urge to knock before opening the door. He found Phil sitting up in bed with his laptop open on his lap.

Dan closed the door behind him, but hesitated near it. "Everyone's wondering where you are," he said inanely.

Phil nodded, his eyes not quite meeting Dan's, and said, "I'm having a lazy morning." He was obviously trying to sound casual, but failing.

Dan walked toward his suitcase. "I changed my ticket. I'm going to head home today, let you … do whatever you need to do … without me getting in the way." He started tossing things into his case, not looking at Phil.

"You didn't have to sleep on the floor!" Phil said, and he sounded upset now. "You don't have to leave!"

Dan looked at him, and tried to make his voice as gentle as possible. "It seems like you could use some space." Understatement. "And that's okay. But you should just … stay here as long as you need to, with people who love you, until you're ready to come home … to somebody else who loves you, too."

"I do love you," Phil said plaintively, as if worried that Dan wouldn't believe him. Dan heard the sadness in Phil's voice and felt all his love well up inside him. Whatever was going on inside him, however much Dan was hurting, this was difficult for Phil, too. And he couldn't love Phil as much as he did without wanting to help when Phil was in pain. So he would try to be strong and give Phil what he needed, even if it was tearing his own heart out in the process.

"I know," he said quietly, and leaned over to kiss Phil softly on the lips. "Do what you need to do. I'll wait."

On the flight home, Dan didn't realize that there were tears on his face until the elderly woman sitting next to him patted his arm gently and said, "Whatever it is, it's going to be okay." Her eyes were kind. He looked away.


	4. Chapter 4: Questions

**Chapter 4: Questions**

Phil didn't come home for three weeks.

By then, the flat was the cleanest it had ever been. Even the baseboards had been scrubbed to gleaming perfection. Every tin in the cupboards was aligned perfectly with the label facing outward. All boxes in the cupboards were arranged by type of food, then ordered by height.

Three weeks. No contact lens case had sat on the tap, Dan had always found the expected amount of cereal waiting for him in the morning, and not a single cupboard door had been left open. For three weeks.

It was driving him insane.

When Phil texted him from Gatwick to let him know he was getting into a taxi, it was the first Dan had heard from him in those entire three weeks. In his marriage proposal, he'd said that Phil had made him laugh every day since they'd been together, and he had been telling the complete truth at the time.

The streak was finally broken.

He heard footsteps coming up their stairs, but he determinedly held his browsing position on the sofa, refusing to jump up and run to the door as it opened. He couldn't help turning his head to look, though.

Phil came in looking haggard and radiating dread. Did he dread seeing Dan again? Was that why he'd stayed away so long? But when Dan let himself meet Phil's eyes, he could tell immediately that the dread wasn't about not wanting to see Dan, it was about what kind of reception he'd get. Dan's heart went out to him. He didn't know what had been going on in Phil's head for the last three weeks, but right now he looked deathly afraid of what Dan was going to say to him.

So Dan didn't say anything. He just put his laptop down on the coffee table, walked to the doorway, and took Phil in his arms. Phil sagged with relief immediately, clutching his arms around Dan like a drowning man clinging to his only source of safety. His head dropped, his forehead resting on Dan's shoulder, and he whispered brokenly, "You don't hate me?"

Dan sighed. "Phil, I could never hate you. I love you. More than anything else in the entire world." He wanted to kiss him, but Phil's head remained lowered, his cheek now pressing to the side of Dan's neck in a touch more intimate than it had any right to be. The vulnerability so obvious in Phil's posture made that touch of his cheek seem like a silent, tenuous reach for connection, a fear of asking too much and so asking as little as possible to avoid rejection. Just the slightest bit of skin against skin, just the slightest intimacy.

Phil didn't say anything else, just stood there in Dan's arms, holding him as tight as he ever had, until Dan finally teased gently, "Can I get a kiss hello?"

The question was so normal, so casual, that it seemed to surprise Phil into looking up, which had been Dan's intention. Dan smiled at him, and Phil smiled tentatively in return before nodding, and then Dan leaned forward for the gentlest, most reassuring of kisses. A kiss that said yes and forgiveness and love and forever and everything. When they pulled apart, Phil's face looked a little less like he'd been through a war and less like he was expecting another at any moment.

"Hungry?" Dan asked. Sure, there were big questions that needed to be asked, big issues that needed to be discussed, but first there were the basics, the simple things, the problems they could solve without any heart-wrenching conversations. "Maybe just some beans on toast?" Phil nodded again. Dan wondered what he'd been doing these past three weeks to leave him so silent and hollow.

They walked together to the kitchen and Dan set about making Phil a bit of food. The flight from the Isle of Man wasn't a long one, but he knew Phil always got hungry when he traveled, and they were never really ones for regular mealtimes. Phil stood by, watching, just letting Dan take care of him. He seemed almost stunned. Dazed. Dan wondered if he had expected to be greeted with immediate demands and accusations and recriminations. Did he have that little faith?

Phil obediently took his plate of food out to the lounge and sat on the sofa to eat, while Dan resumed his seat in the sofa crease and just waited. Phil would talk when he was ready, and Dan had resolved a thousand times during the past three weeks that he was not going to push. He knew that Phil was a kind person, the kindest person he'd ever met, and that Phil loved him—he didn't doubt Phil's love for him for a single second. So whatever had gone wrong, whatever miscommunication or misunderstanding or mistake had occurred to lead to that horrible day on the beach, they would work it out. They always did.

The topic of the marriage proposal lay between them like an unexploded bomb, but Dan was content to let it lay unexploded for a little longer.

After Phil had finished eating, Dan put the dishes into the dishwasher while Phil just sat on the sofa, looking limp and lost, his suitcase still abandoned at the front door. Dan came back and looked at him, but Phil didn't meet his eyes. "You look done in," Dan said bluntly. "Do you want to have a wash or just go to bed?"

Phil looked up at him and said softly, "I'm so tired, Dan. I'm just so tired."

Dan took his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Let's get you to bed, then. You can have a good sleep in your own bed, have a good wash in the morning, and then you'll feel more yourself." He was glad Phil always wore his glasses on flights, because he wouldn't want to have to wrestle Phil into taking out contact lenses right now. Dan just walked Phil down the hallway to the bedroom door, but then experienced a moment of sudden awkwardness, not sure how to say what needed saying without touching on subjects he really didn't want to bring up right now.

"Uh … I've been … I've been sleeping in the other room. I mean, that's where I keep all my stuff anyway, and I didn't know if you would want…" Dan gestured toward the doorway across the hall and shrugged, feeling suddenly sad and uncertain again, remembering what Phil had said in the dark, remembering that miserable night on the floor on the Isle of Man.

But then suddenly Phil was pulling him close, not kissing him but holding him very tightly and whispering, "Come sleep with me, Dan. Please." And so Dan did. And Phil whispered words of love to him as he fell asleep.

* * *

When he woke up, Phil was still sleeping. He had no idea what time it was, or even if it was morning or afternoon. He just lay there and watched Phil sleep for a while. His dark hair was mussed and there were faint smudges visible beneath his eyes. What had Phil been doing these past three weeks? Dan had assumed he was taking refuge in the loving support of his family, but instead he looked like he'd been hiding alone somewhere doing unnecessary penance.

Had their conversation on the beach really done this to him?

Had it been so terrible, Dan wanting to marry him?

Dan tried to avoid jumping to any conclusions. They needed to talk. They needed to talk **a lot**. And until they did that all he'd be doing was making assumptions, and that wasn't going to get them anywhere. So he just watched Phil sleep and let himself feel how glad he was that his love had returned to him at last.

* * *

A few days later, Dan couldn't take it anymore. Phil still hadn't brought up anything about the marriage proposal or anything else that had happened on the Isle of Man visit. Dan had been nearly killing himself, making sure not to push, not to bring up anything uncomfortable until Phil was ready, but … it had been days! They'd pretty much settled back into familiar patterns, but … was Phil just going to ignore it all forever? Did he expect to just go on as if Dan had never proposed, as if none of it had ever happened, as if he owed Dan no answer or explanation at all?

He waited until they were both hanging out on the sofa with nothing immediate planned. Normally, they would start watching something on television now, or suggest a video game. Instead, Dan braced himself.

"Phil," he began gently, "we need to talk."

Phil blanched, his normally pale skin going white. He looked like he had on the beach that day. "I need time to think," he insisted quickly, staring somewhere in the vicinity of Dan's sternum. "I told you that." His voice sounded a bit defensive.

Dan tried really hard not to get mad. "Phil, I understand if you need time to think about this, but we can't just pretend like it never happened. You don't have to give me an answer right away, but you **do** have to talk to me, let me know what's going on. You can't just shut me out like this. It isn't fair. I'm a part of this, too."

Phil's mouth had compressed to a tight line. "You want to talk about it right now? Even if I don't? Well, how is that fair to **me**? I've told you what I need, and you just ignore it like you always do."

Dan's eyes went wide. "What? You … I always ignore what you need? Since when? And why haven't you ever said anything about it before?"

Phil rolled his eyes. "That wasn't what I meant, exactly. You're twisting my words. I told you I didn't want to talk about any of this yet. It isn't going to go well if we talk about it right now, I know it won't. I'll say things badly and you'll get angry and I just … why can't things just go back to the way they were before?" His voice had gone from confrontational to plaintive by the end.

"You want to pretend that I never proposed?" Dan asked hesitantly, barely able to believe his ears.

Phil nodded. "Let's just … things are good between us, right? We're happy! We've been so happy for so long! Why would we want to change anything if we're already this happy?" He was gazing at Dan with such hope in his eyes, it broke Dan's heart a little more.

"So you didn't really need time to think about your answer?" Dan verified. Something was boiling inside him, but he tried to keep his voice level, but he could hear some of the emotion leaking out. "You just wanted time to figure out how to talk me out of it?"

"Marriage changes things," Phil said. "Why would we want to change something that is already working? I love you, Dan. You know that! Why do we need a piece of paper to announce it to the world? And how would that work, anyway? I mean, we've never even been out about our relationship, and suddenly we'd be married? People would find out, Dan! It would change **everything**."

Dan felt numb. So this was Phil's answer. He was saying no. He didn't want to marry Dan. It sounded like it wasn't even a question of timing—he didn't want to marry Dan **ever**. He just wanted everything to stay the same forever as it was now: the same closeted relationship, the same commitment that lasted only as long as their current lease, the same daydream conversations about a future that had no real substance.

"If we came out," Phil was continuing, apparently oblivious to the cataclysm taking place inside Dan, "it would create all these pressures on us that we haven't had to deal with before. And just those pressures alone might mess everything up for us!"

Feeling as if he was watching the scene from some great distance, Dan asked, "So … you not only never want to marry me … you also never want to come out about us being together? Not even sometime in the distant future. It's just … not something you want? Ever?"

Phil made a pleading face. "Dan! I don't understand why you want anything to change when it's so good now! Why take chances on ruining the best thing in our lives?"

Dan stood up from the sofa, not even really feeling it when his shin collided with the coffee table. He turned away from Phil and took a couple steps, then turned back around to look at him. It was like looking at a stranger.

"Okay," he said through numb lips. "Now I'm the one who needs time to think." And he trudged slowly to the other bedroom, the bedroom that was ostensibly his but which he had almost never slept in, the room where he had stayed in self-imposed exile while Phil had remained silent on the Isle of Man for three weeks. It no longer looked like exile—it looked like a refuge. He closed the door behind him and climbed beneath the black-and-white duvet, trying not to think. Thinking could wait until tomorrow. Right now he just wanted to forget all the hopes he'd had, all the bright things he'd thought awaited him and Phil in their future together, all the dreams he'd cherished and nurtured as they grew over the years. All the dreams he'd thought they shared.

Right now he just wanted to forget.

* * *

The next few days were quiet. Painfully so. Dan continued sleeping in his own room, because he needed space right now, space to try to figure things out, since apparently Phil had no interest in helping him do that. He ghosted around the flat, sometimes aware of Phil's eyes on him but never meeting his gaze. Phil didn't try to talk to him but would sometimes come into the kitchen when Dan was there and just lurk in the doorway as if waiting for something. Dan never reacted.

Once when they were passing each other in the hallway, Phil moved in a way that Dan knew was going to turn into an attempt at a hug. He subtly moved further away as he passed so that neither of them would have to face what it meant if he openly rejected the offer of affection.

Phil had taken three weeks on the Isle of Man for his supposed "thinking." He'd better damn well give Dan some time and space to do some thinking of his own.

He tried to put himself in Phil's shoes. Tried to see things from his perspective. Tried to connect all this with the loving, supportive, committed relationship he'd been sure they had for the past several years. Something didn't add up. There was more to this than Phil was saying. He just didn't know how to get Phil to talk about it, and until Phil talked about it there was nothing they could do to get past it. And if they couldn't get past it, then … they might really be over. Dan didn't want that, so he was going to do his damnedest to get to the root of what the hell was going on.

* * *

After so many days of avoidance, Phil looked surprised when Dan sat down on the sofa near him and waited for Phil to meet his eyes. Phil looked afraid, but also hopeful.

"I'd really like to talk to you. I miss talking to you," Dan said softly.

Phil launched himself at Dan, hugging him in apparent desperation. "I've missed you so much, just living in the same house but not really being together. I love you so much, and I didn't want things to get messed up, and now I feel like I messed them up myself by not wanting to mess them up…"

Dan held up a hand. "Whoa there! Slow down." And he smiled. Phil smiled back. Dan reached out and took both Phil's hands, and they both instinctively scooted closer together, so that their knees touched. Phil squeezed Phil's hands gently.

"I want to understand. We've always been good at hearing each other out, talking things through. That's all I want right now, Phil. I just want to understand. That's all." He squeezed Phil's hands, just as Phil had squeezed his, then leaned forward for a soft kiss. It was their first kiss, first real touch, in days, and they both relaxed into it for a long moment. It was such sweet relief to find that connection again.

They pulled apart, and Dan waited patiently. Phil looked down at their joined hands lying on their knees. When Dan refused to jump in and the silence grew strained, Phil finally said, "I've just been so happy with you. Happier than I've ever been in my life! And I don't want to lose this, and I'm afraid that if we … change things … then it's all going to crumble … and I just don't want to lose this! Don't want to lose **you**!"

Dan leaned in for another kiss, a reassuring kiss, then asked his next question carefully. He tried to keep his voice even and without any emotional inflection, trying to suppress his emotional reactions so that Phil would feel safe to talk, "So … you never want us to come out or get married. Right?" He rushed to add, "I'm not trying to fight with you. I just want to understand." He kept repeating that, because it was true, and he thought it might help Phil open up. If he couldn't get Phil to open up, they'd never be able to get through this.

Phil nodded, looking uncomfortable, as if he was bracing himself. "I'm sorry, Dan, but I just … I'd rather not chance it."

Dan took a deep breath. "But, Phil. we've talked before about the possibility of coming out. We talked about the pros and cons, and you seemed to have thoughts on both sides. Thus far, we'd decided not to do it, but I never got the impression that you wanted it to stay that way permanently." Phil was squirming, but Dan didn't let sympathy deter him. "You talked about the good things that could come from it, how you would like to be able to be open about how we feel, and that meant a lot to me. I always felt like those conversations were about **when** we were going to decide to let everyone know, that we were on the same page about wanting it to happen eventually. Have I been misunderstanding you all this time?"

Phil sighed quietly. "No, it's not like I've been lying or anything." He looked up to meet Dan's eyes. "I **have** thought about it. I'm just scared."

Now came the big question. Dan was still trying to keep his voice even. Not a threat. Not a fight. Just trying to understand. His pain and anger were fighting to surface, but he ruthlessly suppressed them. "But I don't understand why you've suddenly made up your mind that you never want to do it … right after I proposed marriage to you. Is this even about coming out at all? Or is there something else going on? Because I feel like maybe there is, and I thought we could talk about anything. I trust you to be honest with me, Phil. **Is** something else going on?"

Phil didn't say anything for a long time, but he looked contemplative, and Dan gave him time to formulate his thoughts. Finally, Phil said slowly, "Okay. There is something else. But … it isn't important. We're happy together, right?" He repeated his earlier plea for reassurance, but Dan was relentless. Whatever this was, whatever Phil wasn't telling him: this was why he'd reacted to Dan's proposal the way he had. This was why Phil didn't want to marry him. He waited silently again. Phil let go of Dan's hands and ran his fingers through his own hair a few times, leaving it sticking out all over. He bit his lip. And then finally he spoke, but haltingly.

"Well … I've always been honest with you about the fact that I'm bisexual."

Dan was confused. What did this have to do with them? "Yeah, so?"

Phil's fingers were tangling in his lap like restless snakes. "So … well … I always sort of figured … if I ever decided to settle down and get married…"

Dan waited, but Phil didn't say anything more. Finally, after what felt like an age, he burst out, "Phil, you're killing me. Just … tell me! What is it?"

Phil looked positively ill now. His voice was tight when he stammered out, "Well, like I said … I'm bisexual … and I just … I always figured … if I ever got married … you know, **if** it ever happened … and that was a big 'if' … but if I ever **did** get married … I wanted it to be … well … I wanted it to be with … with a woman."


	5. Chapter 5: Answers

**Author's Note:** This chapter focuses on the very sensitive, deeply personal topics of homophobia, biphobia, and the internalization of both/either of these. I've tried to treat those topics with respect and hope that readers will forgive me if I've unintentionally written anything insensitive. I wanted to focus here on the pain these prejudices can cause everyone involved. The next chapter will address how and why Phil developed these feelings, but this chapter focuses only on the feelings themselves and their impact on individuals and on relationships.

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Answers**

Dan was confused at first about what Phil was trying to say. "So when you were younger you figured you'd grow up and marry some nice girl? How disappointingly heteronormative of you, Phil." He was half-joking, but also a little disturbed to learn that Phil had bought into such societally prescribed expectations at some point in his life.

Then the penny fell.

"Wait," Dan said slowly. "Wait. So … are you saying … are you saying that's what you **still** want?"

Phil grimaced. "No! I mean, I'm not with a girl. I'm with you!"

"But you want to **marry** a girl? Eventually?" Dan's entire chest was seizing up, and the guilty look on Phil's face was only making it worse. He felt like he might faint or vomit or just run screaming out of the room. Then it all became horribly, horribly clear. "That's why you were so freaked out when I proposed. Because … because you would never marry me. Because I'm a guy."

"I never really thought about it that way!" Phil insisted frantically. "I just … when you asked me that on the beach, I realized that it wasn't what I'd pictured. And I didn't know what to do. I panicked!"

Dan stared at the coffee table and said dazedly, "So you've just been shagging me for the past several years, passing time while you waited to meet the right girl so you could settle down like you always dreamed?"

"No!" Phil shouted, looking aghast. "I was never looking for anyone else! love **you** , Dan! You **know** I do! You've never doubted it before, and nothing has changed. I still love you, you still love me, we're still together…"

But Dan interrupted, his anger rising as the shock receded, "But never the way you wanted, right? Because I'm a guy. And that doesn't fit your pretty little socially acceptable picture of what marriage looks like. Right? Two guys, getting married? Does it seem **wrong** , Phil? Does it turn your fucking stomach?"

"No!" Phil shouted again. His face was bright red. Dan noticed it the way you notice these things. These things that don't matter to you because your world has been turned upside down. Phil's face was red, his mouth contorted, so fucking what?

Phil was talking. Dan heard him in a hazy sort of way. "It's just that I like both guys and girls, and it just made more sense in the long run, if I was going to get married, to go with a girl. Just … simpler."

Dan nodded slowly. "And that's what marriage is about for you? Going with what's simplest?"

Phil threw his hands up. "I don't want to get married at all! I told you that! I'm with you, and I want to stay with you, and I love you, and I thought we were happy together, I thought we could stay happy like that forever, and that's what I wanted. That's what I **still** want!"

"Just not marriage," Dan replied, and his voice was calm now. The rage had sunk deep inside him, so deep that none of it showed anymore. It was his own private inferno. "Because that's only for men and women."

"I didn't say men couldn't get married…" Phil began hesitantly, but Dan interrupted.

"Just that **you** wouldn't want that. But you **would** want to marry a woman. Because you feel like marrying a woman would be okay, but marrying a man wouldn't."

Phil bit his lip, looking the most uncomfortable Dan had ever seen him.

Dan continued, the rage roiling silently beneath his words, "So, somewhere inside you, somewhere, you really believe that straight marriages are more valid than gay ones. That's what you're saying."

"Just for me," Phil said quickly, then seemed to realize what he'd said and clenched both hands into his hair. "Dan, listen to me…"

"I think I'm done listening to you, Phil. Because you **disgust** me." Dan spat the words, his anger growing out of control, rising toward the surface and bursting through.

Phil paled. "Dan, no, I love you. You don't understand! It's just … I can't help the way I feel…"

Dan's voice was hard and cold when he said slowly, "Yeah, well, that thing you're feeling?" He looked Phil in the eyes and let all his harsh emotion show in his face, "We call that fucking **bigotry** , Phil."

Phil's head jerked back as if Dan had dealt him a physical blow. His eyes were wide. Wider than they'd been on the beach. The beach where Dan had asked Phil to marry him with such blind excitement and certainty, the beach where Phil had apparently been horrified because men were good enough to fuck, maybe even good enough to love, temporarily, but not good enough to marry. God, he'd been such a fool! He'd been with Phil all these years and never seen it, never seen that this man who supposedly loved him so much was a fucking homophobe.

Dan stood and turned to go, but Phil jumped up to grab his arm. Dan shook him off, snarling, "I can't even stand to **look** at you right now, let alone have you touch me."

He stalked around the lounge, picking up his coat and phone while Phil watched him in helpless, horrified silence. When Dan got to the front door, he turned to look at Phil, feeling nothing but righteous indignation and pain. "You aren't the person I thought you were," he said, purposely trying to hurt Phil the way Phil had hurt him. "You aren't the person I loved." And then he walked out the door and slammed it behind him.

* * *

He didn't even really pay attention to where he was walking for a while, just striding along the pavement with his thoughts churning and his heart cold and dead as a stone in his chest. He ended up in some sort of park—he hadn't even realized there was a park anywhere near their flat, so how far had he walked?—and he threw himself down on a bench, panting, raising his head to stare up into the night sky.

On their various visits to the Isle of Man, he and Phil had stargazed many times. There was little light pollution near where the Lesters lived, and the sky at night was a marvel of spangled beauty. This London sky suited him better, he decided. With all the city lights, no stars were visible at all—just the black abyss of space.

That's what he felt like inside. Cold and dead and empty and just … darkness.

Sure, he was upset about what Phil had said as it pertained to him personally, how it made him feel like a placeholder, just helping Phil pass the time until he found someone—a **female** someone—with whom he might be able to imagine getting married.

The fact that Phil couldn't even **conceive** of wanting to marry Dan.

Dan, who had been so sure that Phil was as committed to their relationship as he was, so sure that Phil would accept his proposal with unhesitating joy.

Dan, who Phil would never want to marry.

Dan, who hadn't understood anything.

Dan, who was so completely fucked.

But he was upset about more than just himself, because this issue, the thing that had him so blindingly angry and made him feel so betrayed, was bigger than just him.

Dan had never really felt comfortable labeling his sexuality, but he had no problem admitting that he found both men and women attractive. He couldn't imagine having a problem feeling attracted to someone who identified outside that binary construct, either. He was attracted to **people** , not genitals. It had pretty much always been that way, though it had taken him a while to fully understand and accept it.

Phil had been a big part of that process. He'd already openly identified as bisexual when Dan first met him, though he'd become more private about his sexuality as his channel had grown in popularity and shrunk in average viewer age. But back then, he'd been older and wiser, and he'd really helped teenaged Dan start to believe that maybe it was okay if he didn't just like girls. That there was more than one way to be, that he didn't have to judge.

Those early lessons he'd learned from Phil had started him on the journey toward who he was today and the strong feelings he had about a wide variety of social issues, including LGBT ones. Dan was passionately committed to equality for all people—regardless of their gender, their sexual orientation, their religion, the color of their skin, or any other supposed "difference" that haters used to separate "us" from "them." He saw no "us" or "them" … and so, to him, there was absolutely no difference between a straight marriage and a gay one. The importance was the love and the commitment, not the gender identity of the two parties involved. Finding out that Phil was prejudiced in this way rocked Dan to his very foundations. It actively **offended** him, because it disrespected all gay and bisexual people and their relationships, which Dan found literally abhorrent.

For Dan, this wasn't just about what he and Phil chose for the future of their relationship—it was also about how they each saw the world and what their values were. And he suddenly felt like he didn't even know who Phil **was** anymore, whether Phil was even a person he could **respect** , let alone **love**.

He no longer knew whether Phil was someone he would even **want** to marry, even if Phil were to accept his proposal now.

What made it even more mind-boggling to him was that Phil could feel this prejudice against gay men marrying, when he himself was bisexual! He'd never seemed to have any hesitation about being in a relationship with Dan, not just sexually but romantically. For years, he had lavished Dan with love and support, kindness and encouragement, respect and admiration. He'd shared every success, every triumph, every wonderful moment that memories were made of. Dan thought of that first PINOF, his longtime idol sharing the limelight with an unknown kid who dreamed of being a YouTuber. He remembered Phil rushing him to the hospital and staying with him when he got sick in uni. He remembered their first night in the Manchester apartment, when he felt like an actual adult for the very first time, because Phil had suggested that they live together. He remembered the night they realized they'd finished writing the very last page of TABINOF, realized that the book was officially **done** , and how they had danced around the living room whooping like lunatics. He thought of all those nights together with confetti raining down on them at the end of each TATINOF performance. He remembered Phil calling him up to the podium at the BONCAs, taking what should have been his own private moment of recognition and accomplishment … and preferring to share it with Dan. And as he remembered all these moments of connection and mutual support and partnership, he realized that he'd maybe let his anger get the best of him tonight.

Phil loved him. Now that he had calmed down and thought about it more rationally, he could see that. Phil loved him in a way no one else ever could, just as intensely as Dan loved Phil in return. They had gone through too much making this work, had learned to communicate and compromise and tolerate the little differences that were just part of who they were as individuals. This wasn't a little difference. This was a **huge** fucking difference. But maybe they could still get through it somehow.

They were meant to be together.

But just staying together wasn't enough for Dan anymore, not now that he'd realized that he wanted a real commitment. He wanted to marry Phil, and he didn't want it to be a compromise. He wanted Phil to want to marry him. He couldn't stand to believe that Phil actually saw things the way he'd said, and he didn't think he'd be able to stay in this relationship if Phil didn't change his mind at least about the concept of gay marriage in general, even if he didn't want to marry Dan.

But something inside him, some little voice of hope, some little voice that grew out of all those happy memories, said that maybe Phil did want that. Just maybe. It was worth some calm discussion, at any rate.

A long time ago, Phil had helped that mixed-up teenaged Dan deal with a lot of confusing feelings, helped him find his way and figure out who he wanted to be and what he wanted to do with his life, helped him figure out what things were important to him and what things were crucial.

Back then, Dan had been struggling, and Phil had been there to help. Maybe now it was Dan's turn to return the favor.

* * *

Meandering back toward the flat, unsure of his path and just traveling by instinct, Dan thought to himself that loving someone isn't a choice, and the fact was that he loved Phil for the person he was, the good and the bad. And this prejudice of Phil's, this self-destructive judgment of the very love he valued in his life … this was a part of Phil. A very problematic part, a part that still pissed Dan off, but still a part of the person Dan loved, and so he should have treated him with more respect when the issue arose. He should have talked to him, explained his own thoughts and feelings, clarified why he was angry, and listened to what Phil had to say in response. Phil seemed confused and distressed over this sudden realization, so he should have tried to help Phil sort out what he was feeling, the way Phil had done for him so long ago. He should have trusted in the strong partnership and mutual respect they'd built over the years.

Instead, he had called Phil a bigot, told him he didn't love him, and stormed out of the house.

Yeah, **great** fucking relationship skills there, Danny boy.

So when he finally found himself climbing the stairs to their apartment, his tread was slow and heavy. He dreaded the confrontation he would face when he opened that door. He was still a little pissed off, but willing to talk. He didn't know whether Phil would even consider that or if his prejudices were set too deep.

But instead of a confrontation, what he found was Phil sitting on the sofa, head in his hands, sobbing. He looked up immediately when the door opened, and he flinched when he saw Dan. That flinch made Dan want to slap himself silly. He should never have done anything, not **anything** , to make Phil afraid of him in any way, not even just emotionally or verbally, no matter how angry he'd gotten. He'd never felt such shame.

Dan smiled ruefully and jumped right into it. "I was an ass. I'm sorry. Are you still willing to talk with me if I'm willing to listen?"

Phil was wiping tears from his face, but he laughed at Dan's words, a relieved and exhausted little hiccuping sound. "God yes."

Dan came to sit beside him on the sofa and took his hands like he had earlier before saying, "I pressured you to tell me how you feel, and then when you did open up I called you names and hurled insults at you. That's no way to treat someone you love. Yeah, I'm upset about some of the things you said, and I'm offended by some of it, too, and still a little angry, but I should have talked to you about it instead of just becoming a rage beast. You deserved better than that from me, and I'm sorry."

Words burst out of Phil like a waterfall of anguish. "I knew the things I was saying were hurting you, but I just didn't know how else to explain how I feel, and I'd never really thought about it until you asked me and I realized I felt this way, and I know it doesn't make any sense but it's still how I feel and I don't know how to feel about how I feel, and … Dan, it was just horrible. The most horrible thing I've ever gone through. Let's never do that again, okay?" Phil was looking at him with red, swollen puppy dog eyes. But this was important.

Dan replied, "Just to be clear, I **want** you to tell me how you're feeling, even if it hurts me or makes me angry. What's important is us really talking to each other, not hiding things to avoid drama. I want to talk about this whole thing, Phil. I want to seriously discuss it, because it's an important issue to me, but I want to hear your thoughts and tell you what I think and really talk it through … just all at a much lower volume and with a lot more cuddles." He smiled, and got a hesitant smile from Phil in response.

Maybe they'd end up getting married, and maybe they wouldn't, but Dan realized that what was important right now wasn't the destination. The point right now was the journey, and them making that journey together. And they were on their way back to doing that.

* * *

That night they made love for the first time since before the Isle of Man, and every gentle touch upon each other's skin bestowed reverence, apology, forgiveness, and promise.


	6. Chapter 6: Healing

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Dan and Phil in this chapter discuss various topics relating to sexual orientation and gender. While you or I might use different terms (especially more inclusive ones, such as LGBTQ+ instead of LGBT), and might try to be more sensitive about including various types of sexual orientation (aside from just gay, lesbian, and bi), I've tried to write their dialogue in a way that felt natural to me from what I know of how they speak.

Also, there is some fairly extensive discussion of a character's plotline from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," but I think I've written it so that you can understand the points being made without being familiar with the show. So there are spoilers there, I suppose, but can they really be considered spoilers if the show went off the air 14 years ago? And, anyway, maybe they're spoilers that will make you want to watch the show if you haven't already. :)

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Healing**

They didn't talk about it all at once, not right away, because Phil needed to think.

"I'm very confused right now," he admitted hesitantly. "But I understand why you're so upset—I really do. If I'd heard somebody else tell you that gay marriage was less valid than straight marriage, I would have expected you to kick their butts. Verbally, I mean." He looked away, frowning unhappily. "And I know you're right—I know that's basically what I'm saying." He shook his head, then looked back to meet Dan's eyes. "But knowing it **rationally** , being able to **recognize** it … that doesn't magically make the way I feel go away. I wish it did." He looked genuinely, deeply upset.

Dan wasn't touching him, just sitting near on the sofa and watching his face. He wasn't sure exactly what Phil was trying to say, but it didn't sound good. "So … what now?

Phil sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face, then looked at Dan again, and his eyes were tired and sad. "I need to think. Because … I need to figure out where those feelings are coming from if I ever want to get past them and have any chance of being with you. Because I know you won't stay with me like this."

This time Dan was the one who sighed. He was still feeling a little angry at Phil's internalized homophobia—or biphobia, maybe?—but also felt bad for being angry when the stupid prejudice obviously hurt Phil more than anyone else.

Okay, so maybe right now it was hurting Dan just as much.

He didn't know what to say, because Phil was right. Dan **wouldn't** want to stay with him if things remained like this, now that he knew how Phil felt, how Phil saw not only their own future but also the social fabric of Dan's reality. He couldn't stay with someone who looked down on gay marriage—that attitude was just too diametrically opposed to everything he stood for, everything most important to him about his own moral compass.

Phil tentatively rested a hand on his arm, and Dan realized that he'd been staring off at nothing. He looked into Phil's face again and saw a grim set to his mouth. "I…" Phil began, then stalled. He visibly braced himself, then started again. "I can't promise anything about … us getting married. The proposal, and … well … my answer. I have so much to think about before I can make a decision like that, and I don't think it would be fair to you for me to even consider that before figuring out the deeper stuff." Dan nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly that Phil had a lot of other serious shit to work out before something like that was even an option. Phil took Dan's hand in his, not holding it very tightly as if not sure of his welcome, and Dan squeezed gently, glad to feel Phil squeeze back. Phil continued then, as if Dan's bit of physical reassurance had given him the courage. "I can't promise anything about that, but I **can** promise that I will work to figure this all out, harder than I've ever worked on anything before. And we'll talk about it all. Because…" Phil choked up on the word and paused, swallowing. He licked his lips, then said, "Because whatever happens with us in the long term, your respect matters to me more than anything, Dan. I couldn't stand knowing that I'd lost that. Even if we weren't together anymore, as long as I knew you weren't ashamed to know me…"

Dan interrupted him, "I'm not ashamed to know you, Phil. I'm just … I'm upset, okay?"

Phil nodded. "I know. But I just want you to understand that I'm going to do everything I can to make myself into someone you can love again."

Dan smiled gently and reached up to rest his hand against the side of Phil's face. "You don't have to change the **person** you are. I still love you, Phil."

Phil ducked his head, escaping from Dan's touch, and said quietly, "I think right now you just don't like me very much. And I'm going to try everything I can to be someone you can like again." Dan opened his mouth to speak, but Phil held up his hand and added quickly, "Not just for you, but because I know you're right about this. I hadn't even realized I was prejudiced about this, but I can see now that I am, and I don't want to be. So I'm doing this as much for me as for you. Okay?"

Dan took Phil's hand again and squeezed it a little tighter this time. "That sounds pretty brave, to face your own demons like that. Most people aren't strong enough to do it. And I'll be here for you. I promise I'll never pressure you about your answer to my question on the beach, but I'm making no promises about making my feelings and opinions clear in other ways. I'm not very good at keeping quiet when I care about something."

Phil chuckled. "I know. And that's fine. I love you with your passionate opinions and philosophical rants. I think maybe sometimes they might even help. We do need to talk. And maybe sometimes I'll need to just hide away to focus on my own thoughts. I don't know. I guess … we'll see how it goes."

Dan nodded. He felt better, knowing that Phil was taking the issues seriously instead of defending his prejudiced position. There was no way of knowing what their future would hold, but it looked less hopeless than it had a day or two ago.

* * *

"You do believe me, don't you? I was never looking for anybody else, not the entire time we've been together. I only ever wanted you. I still only want you. You believe me, right?"

"Yeah, I believe you, Phil."

"I never want to marry anybody else. I just want to stay with you forever. You make me … so … so … happy."

"Phil, it's okay. Don't cry. We'll work this out."

* * *

Phil asked if they could watch the musical episode of Buffy. It was his favorite thing to watch when he was feeling down, so Dan knew he'd been fretting again. To be honest, he seemed to be fretting most of the time lately. The flat was quiet these days. It had been about a week since Phil had said he needed time to think, and he seemed to be taking the task seriously. They still spent time together, still outwardly kept to the same patterns and habits, but Phil's thoughts just seemed more inwardly directed. He was less bubbly and more contemplative.

So they were cuddled up together under a blanket on the sofa, watching Willow and Tara sing to each other about the magic of their love, when Dan felt a rant coming on. He paused the show and scowled.

"This has always bugged me. I mean, I think Willow's storyline about her falling in love with Tara is really well done, and I think their relationship is deeper and more romantic than any other relationship Willow has had, but I have a lot of respect for Joss Whedon and I think he dropped the ball on this one."

Dan was gesturing with his hands as he spoke, and he noticed that Phil wore that tolerant smile that always graced his face when Dan started expressing his passionate opinions about something. Dan knew that Phil accepted and maybe even appreciated this about him, so he knew it was okay to just rant until he was done, that Phil would listen to him patiently … and then they would unpause the show and finish watching it as if Dan's verbal tempest hadn't happened. He just had to let out the steam before he could settle down again.

"Sure, his decision to prominently feature a lesbian couple and show them kissing on a fairly mainstream show was revolutionary at the time, and he took a big risk there, but he treats Willow's sexuality like it's a switch that gets flipped. The entire first three seasons of the show, she's presented as actively heterosexual, with no hints of same-sex attraction. She's so attracted to Xander that she can't keep her hands off him! And her relationship with Oz, while maybe not as intense as her later relationship with Tara, is still very real and loving and romantic. She was **definitely** in love with Oz, and he's a guy! The fact that she later has a relationship with a woman doesn't mean she 'turned gay'! It just means she's probably bisexual! Or pansexual or sapiosexual or whatever! But why didn't Joss Whedon just present it that way? Why does Willow spend the rest of the series insisting that she's 'gay now'? It's ridiculous. It's like bisexuality doesn't even exist! It's like everyone has to be either straight or gay, and there are no other options, so Willow just switches teams! It pisses me off that the media presents the whole issue as so black-and-white, and I'm incredibly disappointed that someone as progressive as Joss Whedon did the same fucking thing!"

Phil was nodding amiably, but not interrupting Dan's avalanche of words. When Dan didn't say anything more, Phil asked, "Ready to go back to the show?"

Dan relaxed back into their cuddle, realizing that he had leaned forward tensely as he ranted, and grumbled quietly, "I'm just pissed that Joss Whedon didn't have the balls to go somewhere a little more complicated instead of playing into the whole 'bisexuals just need to choose a side' stereotype. He's invalidating you and me and thousands or maybe even **millions** of other people."

Phil chuckled softly and whispered in Dan's ear, "Thank you for defending my honor. My hero."

Dan rolled his eyes, but turned for a quick kiss before reaching for the remote. "Okay. Rant over. Back to the lesbian love song. The clearly implied cunnilingus is about to happen. Gotta give Joss Whedon props for that."

Phil burst out laughing and Dan grinned at him. He thought maybe Phil's smile looked a little brighter than it had in a while. They unpaused the show and snuggled together to watch the rest of the episode.

* * *

"I think maybe my feelings about being bisexual are a major part of what's going on with me."

"My rant about Willow got you thinking?"

"I just … I realized that I have a lot of mixed feelings about it."

"I'm here if you want to talk."

"I know. I just … I need to think. But thanks."

* * *

Dan had been hesitant to bring this up for the past couple weeks, but finally he decided to ask Phil about it so it would stop fucking **eating** at him.

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

Phil was sitting on his end of the couch, doing something on his laptop, but he closed it and turned to look at Dan. "Sure." He looked nervous.

Dan paused, uncertain, then plowed forward. "What … what were you doing for those three weeks on the Isle of Man when you didn't even … I mean, you didn't even text me or anything, that whole time. I didn't know what to think. I asked you to marry me, and you said you needed time, and then … you just dropped me." He realized how hurt he was feeling as he said those last words. The hurt had lingered and perhaps even sharpened over time, so he was glad he'd finally gotten the nerve to bring it up before it got even worse.

Phil looked down at his lap, fingers worrying at the blanket that partially covered him. "Honest?" he queried tentatively.

Dan nodded, not sure if Phil would notice the motion, and said, "Honest. Always honest."

Phil met his gaze, and his eyes were filled with pain. "I mostly just took long walks by myself and imagined what my life was going to be like without you."

That hit Dan hard. "You were planning to leave me?"

Phil shook his head. "I was sure **you** were going to leave **me**. That's why it took me so long to come back. I didn't want to face you after I'd made such a mess of things. Everything you said on the beach was so beautiful, and then it just brought up all these feelings I hadn't expected, and I was sure you wouldn't want to be with me anymore."

Neither of them said anything for a long time, then Phil added quietly, "It took me three weeks to work up the courage to face you after what I'd done."

Dan moved to sit closer to him and pulled him into a hug. "I'm so glad you did."

* * *

The situation was hard on Dan, because he was used to going to Phil whenever he was upset about something to get comfort … but in this case Phil was the thing that was upsetting him.

So sometimes he would come into the lounge and just crawl into Phil's lap and not say anything, just press close and take comfort from the feel and smell of Phil, the man he loved, the man who had always been there for him. And he wouldn't think about any of the mess they were in right now, but just breathe Phil in and soak Phil in and remember all the good things.

And Phil would hold him in his arms and kiss his hair and not say anything.

* * *

Phil had his bad days, too.

It was almost a month into Phil's "thinking" when Dan woke up alone in the bed. That wasn't an altogether unusual occurrence, since Phil usually woke earlier than he did, but it didn't usually happen at 4 a.m.

He pulled on his track bottoms and walked shirtless to the lounge, where he found Phil sitting on the sofa, apparently deep in thought. He didn't even have his phone or laptop—he was just sitting in the dim light, staring at nothing. He looked over when he heard Dan pad barefoot into the room and smiled softly but said nothing.

"I woke up and you were gone," Dan explained, but there was no blame in his voice. "You okay?"

Phil nodded, his face falling back into troubled lines. He'd looked like that so much lately. It made him look older. It made him look weary. "Thinking," he replied, glancing away.

Dan walked closer and stood right before him. He ran a hand gently through Phil's soft hair and said, "Maybe you don't have to think so hard right now. Maybe you can just … be." He climbed onto the sofa and curled up against Phil, wrapping arms around him and pulling him so close that Phil was half in his lap.

Phil, too, was shirtless, clad only in pyjama bottoms, and so as they cuddled their bare skin pressed together and Dan tried to will his own warmth into this man he loved so much. "This is all my fault," Phil mumbled, and he sounded absolutely desolated. "How can you be so nice to me when I'm doing this to you?"

Dan pulled him closer, pulled Phil all the way into his lap, lanky limbs and all, and squeezed him as if he could join their bodies together through pure force of will. "It's because I love you, you moron. And so when you hurt, I hurt. And I know you're hurting. I've never wanted that." He stroked Phil's hair again, pulling his head down to rest on Dan's shoulder. "We're in this together," he said firmly. "No matter what, I'm with you. Always. Forever. Count on it."

Phil put his arms around Dan and squeezed just as hard as Dan was. "I love you so much," he whispered. "I'm sorry I've hurt you."

Dan pulled Phil's face up and kissed him slowly, softly, trying to show him the depth of his feelings through the pressure of his lips alone. They'd been together a long time. They knew the language of each other's kisses.

When he pulled away, Phil's body was more relaxed and the lines of worry had eased from his face. He lifted a hand to the side of Dan's face and leaned in for another kiss. Dan could read regret in it, but also so much love that he almost couldn't breathe.

"Together," Phil whispered afterward. "We'll get through this together. Because that's what it means to really be in love for the long haul. Right?"

Dan nodded and smiled, darting in for another quick kiss. "Right. Now … come back to bed? Cuddling there is a lot more comfortable." He shifted Phil off his lap and stood, holding out his hand. Phil took it, and they walked together back to the bedroom, where they crawled under the covers together and held each other close until they'd both fallen into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

The sex was intense during that first month. Phil consistently held his gaze, eyes tender and fervid, as they touched and moved together and were as close as it was possible for them to get. His hands moved over Dan's skin as if he caressed the most precious thing in the world.

* * *

"How is it possible that we've been together for 7 years, and we've talked so often about our future, and you apparently never once thought about marriage?"

"Well, I mean, of course the topic crossed my mind. I mean, I may not stalk my Tumblr tag but it's hard to miss the crazy stuff people write in the live show chat."

"Crazy stuff?"

"Don't look like that! I just meant that the fans make up all kinds of theories and write all kinds of stuff about us, and I just sort of … thought of it as part of that."

"Just … over-the-top shipper fantasies? Nothing … real? Nothing that could ever really happen?"

"Dan … I'm sorry. I'm just trying my best to be completely honest."

"Yeah. I get that."

* * *

Sometimes Dan got angry and frustrated and went out to cafes for hours just to get away from the flat. To get away from Phil. Sometimes he wondered why he was putting himself through this, what the fuck he was waiting for.

* * *

Dan had been lost in the Google vortex—looking up one thing after another after another—for he wasn't even sure how long when he realized he hadn't seen Phil in a while. He walked down the hall to Phil's bedroom to find the door open, but Phil just sitting on the bed, leaning back against the wicker headboard fully clothed, lost in thought.

"Hey," Dan said. "What's up?"

"Did you know … when I came out to my flatmates in uni, they laughed." Phil had been coming out with these seemingly random non sequiturs for weeks now, so Dan didn't blink an eye.

"Yeah?" He'd found that just listening and asking questions seemed to help the conversations along best when they popped up like this. He sat down on the edge of Phil's bed.

"One of the guys was even gay. But they all thought I was joking at first, like being bisexual is so unimaginable that it's obviously a prank." His face was set in grim lines. "Over that first year, they all said various stuff. Like I was just confused, or not ready to admit that I was gay. That I just hadn't met the right person yet." He looked at Dan. "Not a single one of them took me seriously."

Dan nodded. He'd heard this kind of stuff before, not about Phil but just generally about how bi people were often treated. He could hear the underlying anger in Phil's voice, buried deep below the hurt.

"When I got a girlfriend, my friends said it was proof that I was straight. I tried to explain that I'd be just as interested in having a boyfriend, but nobody seemed interested in actually listening. And … I was so upset that nobody seemed to care … I went to this LGBT club at the university. I figured it was the one place where people might understand, you know?"

Phil paused as if remembering, then continued. "They were all friendly and everything, even when I said I was bisexual, but when I mentioned that I had a girlfriend, suddenly … well, they weren't as friendly anymore. They acted like having a girlfriend made me straight, so I didn't belong anymore."

Phil stopped talking, and Dan saw a muscle in his jaw clench. His eyes were blazing when he looked at Dan again. "What part of 'bisexual' did they not understand? What part of 'interested in both' was so difficult to grasp? Having a girlfriend didn't make me straight any more than having a boyfriend would have made me gay. But nobody seemed to understand that. Not even the fucking LGBT club." Phil almost never swore, so the word told Dan how angry he was.

Phil looked away again, and the anger in his face slowly faded. Now he just looked tired. He shrugged dismissively, but Dan wasn't fooled by the attempt at casualness. "I dated a few people in uni, not just that one girl. A couple girls, a couple guys. But all of them seemed to think that because I was bisexual I was going to cheat on them. Like I had such an insatiable desire for both that I wouldn't be able to settle for just one in the long term. They just couldn't seem to understand that what interested me was **people** , and that I was capable of committing to one—the only difference was that I didn't care which gender they were. So none of the relationships lasted."

He looked up at Dan again. "None of them lasted until I met you." Dan reached out, and Phil took his hand, but the touch was light and hesitant.

"And even then I guess I was letting all that past stuff come between us … and I didn't even realize it. Not until you asked me to marry you and it all came crashing down on me." His grasp on Dan's hand became a little firmer as he said, "I'm so sorry about that."

Dan finally spoke up. "You've said you're sorry about ten thousand times in the past couple months, Phil. I get it, and you're forgiven. Just … try to let go of being sorry … and work on moving forward. Because being sorry is something you do by yourself, but moving forward is something we can do together."

* * *

Sex had become more tentative between them. Dan looked for the same passion he'd seen in Phil's eyes, but found a deep sadness, as if Phil had sunk so deep into his own grief, his own past, that he wasn't fully present, as if some part of him was always stuck in those remembered wrongs.

Dan felt like he was making love with a ghost.

* * *

"I'm grateful to 22-year-old Phil every day for responding to your pesky tweets."

"Really?"

"I'd never have gotten to know 25-year-old Dan otherwise, and 25-year-old Dan is my favorite person in the world."

* * *

"Can I ask another potentially uncomfortable question?"

"I'm ready."

"What does 'marriage' actually mean to you? What do you think of when you hear the word?"

"I don't know. I guess … paperwork. Legal mumbo jumbo. Joint property. Making sure your kids are legitimate. Taxes. That sort of thing."

"Yeah, you always did say it was just a piece of paper."

"I can't help it. That's just the connotations it has for me."

"What about your parents?"

"What about them?"

"Do you think that's why they're married? Joint property? Taxes?"

"Um…"

"Because I've always thought it seemed like they really love each other, and that's why they're still together after so many years. … That's the kind of marriage I would want to have."

* * *

Dan was in the middle of editing a video when Phil approached him and just hovered nearby, not saying anything. Dan saved his work and looked up expectantly, but reached out a hand when he saw the expression on Phil's face. Phil took his hand and led him to their bed, where he made love to Dan as if he were precious again, as if Phil was whole again, and fully present. He looked into Dan's eyes as he entered him, and it felt like they were truly one.

* * *

Everything wasn't perfect, but it seemed to be getting better. Phil talked more, laughed more, made more jokes. But he was obviously still thinking.

* * *

"You've talked about how your uni friends acted when you came out, but how did your parents react?"

"Oh, they were pretty confused at first, but … I don't know … they were just used to me being weird, and so this was just another weird Phil thing. They accepted it pretty easily."

"No worries at all? Seriously?"

"Not really. Like I said, they're used to me being weird. So I guess bisexuality didn't seem any weirder to them than YouTube did."

* * *

"Want to know what I'm most ashamed of, now that I've had the time to think about it?"

"Do you really want to talk about this right before we go to sleep?"

"I just … I haven't had the guts to bring it up before this. And I've been wanting to. Because I want to be honest with you, even about the things I don't like in myself."

"Okay. You've got me scared as hell now. Go ahead."

"Well, I've been thinking, and I thought about how I hate conflict. And how being bisexual is like a lifetime of coming out, a lifetime of defending myself against other people's prejudices, and how exhausting that is, and how I don't want to spend my life fighting this never-ending battle … and I realized that on some level, deep down, I kind of wish I could be straight, because it would make my life so much simpler."

"Well, to be honest, it would. But you **aren't** straight."

"I know. But I think … when I thought about someday marrying a woman and settling down and having kids … it was like this idealized future where I wouldn't have to fight anymore, you know? Where I wouldn't have to always be explaining myself … and I could just … **be**. And it wouldn't actually be dishonest, because I **do** like women, and I could easily have ended up with a woman … and that future could have happened. But instead I fell in love with you."

"Phil … are you sorry?"

"God, Dan, I could never be sorry about that!"

"Okay! Okay! I believe you! Keep at me like that and we'll never go to sleep, because I'll have to ravish you all over again!"

"I just wanted you to know. I figured out where that idea came from. I think it came from wanting to avoid conflict, wanting to have my life be simple and easy and normal."

"I once heard this wise saying: Normalness leads to sadness."

"You know, I've heard that, too!"

"Sounds pretty smart to me."

* * *

They were in the shower, of all places, and Phil was washing Dan's back when he asked out of the blue—as all his questions seemed to be these past few months—"Why do you want to get married so badly?"

Dan turned to look at him, the black hair plastered to his head, wet fringe swept back and water droplets clinging to his eyelashes like impending tears. But his eyes were incredibly clear in the light of the bathroom, their unique combination of colors like a stream flowing over brightly colored pebbles, and the look in them was soft and fond.

"Well, the truth is that I don't really want to get married all that badly." He waited a beat for Phil's incredulity and was not disappointed.

Phil sputtered. "But … I thought … what about … on the beach … all those things you said … and what's all this been about, then … I mean…"

Dan lifted a finger and pressed it to Phil's lips, silencing him. "I don't particularly care about getting married, but I do want to marry **you**. It isn't about getting married. It's about marrying **you**."

Phil apparently decided that the best way to wash Dan's back was to pull him closer, pressing their chests together, and wrapping his arms around him so he could run his soapy hands over Dan's back in an embrace. Dan put his arms around Phil's neck and smiled at him.

"So why do you want to marry **me** so badly?" Phil asked, and his voice had gone a bit husky.

Dan had been waiting weeks for this question, so he was well prepared. He wove his fingers into the wet hair on the back of Phil's head and looked directly into his eyes. "I want to marry you, Philip Lester, because I love you so much that I don't want to keep it to myself. I want to stand in front of our friends and family and viewers and the Queen and the House of fucking Lords and declare that I adore you and want you by my side for the rest of our lives. I want to sign pieces of paper that tie us together, because I want to tie you to me in every way possible. No, not in a kinky way, you perv. We're not talking about the bedroom right now. We're talking about **life**. I'm talking about saying, 'This person is half my life, and I want to declare it in every way possible. I would get his name tattooed on my forehead if it weren't so aesthetically offensive, and instead I'd like to wear his ring on my finger and introduce him every day for the rest of our lives as my husband.'"

Phil looked a little shellshocked, and his hands had stilled on Dan's back. They just stood there under the shower spray, looking into each other's eyes.

"Does that answer your question?" Dan asked smugly, and Phil just nodded, apparently struck dumb.

"Okay then. It's your turn. Let me wash your back." They changed places and Dan ran soapy hands over the smooth skin of Phil's pale back, pausing a moment to knead a bit at his shoulders. They weren't particularly tense, and that discovery made Dan very happy.

* * *

Dan occasionally got texts from Phil's mum. She never asked anything too nosy, but her extreme curiosity was evident in the questions she did ask.

 _How are you and my Philly doing?_

 _Anything new with you boys?_

 _I hope we'll see you again soon under much happier circumstances, dear._

Dan always responded with affection and respect, but no actual information.

* * *

"What if I said no?"

"Said no to what?"

"What if I said no, I don't want to get married? Would that end us?"

"I really don't want to turn this into an ultimatum, Phil. That's not fair to you."

"Let **me** decide what's fair to me. And what **I** think is fair is for you to be honest about what's at stake here."

"Phil … to be honest, I don't know. I've been trying not to think about it. The important thing right now is for you to figure out how you feel, and we can deal with the rest later."

"But all those things you said in the shower about wanting to marry me…"

"I **do** want to marry you. Very much. But if you don't want to marry me, then I don't want it either. Because getting married would be about **us** , Phil, about what we **both** want, not just about what I want."

"So you'd be okay with not getting married?"

"Phil … I'd really rather not think about it right now. I'm sorry, but I don't want this to turn into an ultimatum even in my own head. I love you. I want to marry you. If you decide that's not what you want, then we'll talk about it together, okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

Dan was in the kitchen getting plates for their Indian takeaway when Phil lounged in the doorway and asked, "Did you tell my family that you proposed to me? I mean, before you left that day on the Isle of Man?"

Dan turned to look at him but couldn't read Phil's expression. He sighed. Hopefully this wouldn't make Phil angry.

"To be honest … well … I actually sat them all down beforehand and … well … I sort of asked for their blessing." He turned back to the cupboards to get the plates, not wanting to watch Phil's face in case it did something he didn't want to see.

Phil sounded shocked when he replied, "Before you even asked me?"

Dan's voice squeaked embarrassingly when he said, "Yes?" It sounded like a question, even though it really wasn't. He slowly turned with the plates in his hands and looked at Phil, his heart in his throat.

Phil's face was a mask. "So … they've known this whole time? All of them?"

Dan put the plates on the counter and swallowed nervously. "Um. Yeah. Before I left, I asked them not to tell you, because I didn't want them to pressure you."

The blankness on Phil's face turned to puzzlement. "Why would they have pressured me?"

Dan could feel himself blushing. He turned to open the food containers. "They all seemed … pretty keen on the idea."

He couldn't see Phil as he focused with unnecessary diligence on spooning rice and curry onto the plates, but the silence behind him was making him increasingly anxious.

"That would explain some of the texts I've gotten from my mum these past few months," Phil said with a bit of amusement in his tone.

Dan turned to look at him nervously. "You aren't mad?"

Phil looked thoughtful for a moment. "I guess not. I mean, it's kind of weird to find out that they've known this whole time and never said anything … and it's kind of weird that you talked to them about it before you talked to me … but … no, I guess I'm not mad."

They took their plates into the lounge, but before he turned on the tv, Phil said, "I'm surprised my mum was so keen, though. She's always really wanted grandchildren and … well … you know … that would have been easier if I were with a woman, so I would have expected her to be hesitant. I guess maybe she's just hoping for Martyn and Cornelia."

Dan put his plate down, feeling a bit offended. "You know it would be perfectly easy for us to have kids. There are loads of kids who need good homes, just waiting to be adopted. Or there are surrogates. There are **options** , Phil. Two men being married doesn't mean not raising kids." After a moment, he added more softly, "We could totally have kids." He picked up his plate and took a self-righteous bite of food, not looking at Phil. He chewed, waiting, but Phil didn't say anything. He still hadn't turned the tv on, though.

"And maybe it's also because my mum loves you and would rather see me raise kids with you than with some fictional woman I could have ended up with instead."

Dan's head whipped around. Phil was smiling softly. Then a silly grin grew on his face. "We could have kids," he marveled in a near whisper.

Dan smiled back, wide and happy. "Yeah, we could."

They sat there just beaming at each other until Dan remembered their food would be getting cold. "But for right now," he said with a chuckle, "we can have curry. And Attack on Titan."

Phil nodded, gave Dan one more smile, and then tucked into his dinner. Dan couldn't help but let his hopes soar into the stratosphere.

* * *

Dan was shocked when Phil became more withdrawn after the conversation about children. He'd thought they'd really connected, that they'd shared a moment of dreams for their future, and now Phil seemed to be pulling away. He was spending more time in the bedroom instead of hanging out with Dan in the lounge, and when they did spend time together Phil seemed distracted and reserved.

One week passed like that, then two.

Dan went back to his occasional silent requests for cuddles, and Phil always complied, taking him into his arms and holding him just as he always had, but Dan couldn't help feeling like Phil was doing him a favor. It made him a little angry … but, really, the anger was just hurt wearing a defensive mask. He'd thought they were growing closer, that Phil was figuring things out and moving toward Dan … but now he seemed to be moving further away instead.

Dan didn't understand it. But he didn't ask, because he was afraid of what Phil would say. He was afraid that Phil was making up his mind, or that he already had, and that his decision was resulting in this slow and silent withdrawal.

When they made love, Dan found himself grasping at Phil with desperate hands, trying to hold him tightly as if to prevent him from slipping away. Because it felt like he was.

* * *

"Can we talk?"

Dan heard the words from Phil's lips, but they seemed to set his ears to ringing and he felt like he might actually faint. Phil sounded serious, and so Dan knew there was only one topic that could be on his mind.

Phil had decided. Sure, Dan had said that they could talk about it afterward, but in these past few weeks of feeling so alone even with Phil drifting around the house in a haze, Dan had realized that Phil could really truly break his heart. He kept imagining Phil's face saying, "I don't want to marry you," and trying to imagine how they could bounce back from that, what kind of relationship they could have once Phil had decided that he **didn't** want to stand in front of the House of fucking Lords and declare his eternal love and commitment. Would it create an inequality in the relationship, with both of them knowing Dan wanted more than Phil did? Or would they be able to make it work somehow? Maybe even still be able to find a way to spend their lives together, just … not married.

He realized he'd been standing there, frozen, not responding to Phil's question. He had just entered the lounge and Phil was sitting in his usual spot at the far end of the sofa. Dan walked like a man to the gallows and took his own usual seat in the sofa crease at the opposite end. The space between them seemed infinite. But then Phil unexpectedly scooted closer.

"I've thought about all of this a lot," Phil began.

Dan couldn't help interrupting. "I noticed."

Phil smiled. Dan didn't.

"Dan, I owe you an apology. I owe you lots of apologies, actually. The biggest one, though, is that I'm sorry my feelings about my own sexuality ended up messing things up so badly between us." Dan looked down at his hands, but Phil reached out and took them in his. Dan hadn't been expecting that. Phil continued, "I never wanted to hurt you, and I know that I did. I know that I've been hurting you all along these past few months, making you wait for me to make up my stupid mind."

Phil paused then asked nervously, "Could you look at me? Please?" Dan looked up and met Phil's gaze. He still looked so serious, but he tried to smile again. "I wanted to tell you that … I've thought a lot … and I realized that the idea I had when I was younger, that stupid thought that someday I might marry some unknown woman and settle down … that idea was all about having a normal life, an easier life … but you helped him realize that getting married isn't just about making your life easier or even better … it's about choosing a particular person, and making your life better with that specific, special person."

Dan was listening very closely now, because he was getting the feeling that this wasn't going where he'd thought it would. He was trying not to make assumptions, but…

Phil raised Dan's hands and kissed each one softly, then said, "When I thought about that 'normal' marriage when I was young, it was just a fantasy … but the love you and I have is better than any fantasy. It's real and strong and it's forever. I want it to be forever, and I want everyone to know that."

Phil got down on one knee on the floor at Dan's feet and Dan gasped. He was embarrassed that he'd gasped like a girl in a cliché rom-com, but he had to admit that he did. Phil shrugged a little, looking self-conscious but adorable. "You didn't get on one knee because you said you wanted to ask me to marry you face-to-face like equals, but I'm coming to you on bended knee because I'm asking you to forgive me for all the stupid ways I've hurt you. I always said marriage was just a piece of paper, but the fact that I got so worked up about it … well, I realized that was proof that it did really matter to me."

He looked up into Dan's face, still holding Dan's hands in his, and took a deep breath. He looked really nervous now, and Dan just wanted to kiss him. Wanted to kiss him so very badly, but also couldn't wait to hear what he was going to say next. "So, Dan Howell, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me for how I let my past get in our way … and if you can find it in your heart to forgive me for how long I kept you waiting … and if you can find it in your heart to still love me like you did on that beach on the Isle of Man all those months ago … then would you please do me the honor of becoming my husband, declaring our love before Queen and country, sharing the rest of your life with me, and maybe even helping me give my mum some grand-kids to fawn over?" Phil pretended to look around him as if searching for something, then added, "I don't have a box of rings to offer, but I think there's probably one in the flat somewhere."

Dan laughed with relief and joy, then released Phil's hands to shove at his shoulder. "I thought you were pulling me aside to tell me no, you berk! You've barely spoken to me for weeks! I was a nervous wreck!"

Phil beamed at him. "That makes two of us! So … is this a yes, then?"

Dan pulled Phil up and into his lap and kissed him as he'd been longing to do, then pulled away to say, "Yes! Marry me, you fool!"

Phil whooped, then landed a proper passionate kiss on Dan. It went on for a while, but Dan was in no hurry to end it. Finally, when Phil reluctantly pulled away, he said, "I'm sorry if I've seemed distant lately. I just … when everything started coming together in my head, it was a little overwhelming … and I needed time to figure out if this was really what I wanted."

"And it is?" Dan hated himself for still needing reassurance, but he had to ask the question anyway.

"How can you doubt it after that whole speech?" Phil exclaimed. "I worked so hard on that!"

Dan leaned his head on Phil's shoulder and said quietly, "It was a beautiful speech."

He felt Phil press a kiss to his hair, then Phil admitted hesitantly, "I should be honest … I'm still a little nervous about coming out. It hasn't always gone so well for me in the past, you know."

Dan raised his head and met Phil's eyes. "But this time we'll be doing it together."


	7. Chapter 7: Commitment

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Kindly ignore the fact that the Isle of Man is not in fact part of the UK, but rather "a self-governing crown dependency," which complicates the bureaucratic side of things for a couple of English guys getting married there. With the magic wand of the fiction writer, I proclaim that all necessary licenses, provisions, permissions, and such legal niceties were easily obtained, and everything in my fictional little world happens simply and smoothly for my fictional Dan and Phil.

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Commitment**

They got together to Skype all their close family to tell them the news.

Phil amused himself by allowing their conversation with his parents to meander through 15 minutes of random chitchat before he finally said, "So I hear you guys have been waiting months to find out my answer to a very important question."

Phil's mum had actually squealed, hands covering her mouth as she glanced from one of them to the other. "Really?" she breathed. Dan and Phil raised their hands to show her the engagement rings they were both wearing, and she threw her arms around Phil's dad with a happy cry. All four of them beamed with happiness.

Phil's dad said gruffly, "Now, I'm not going to ask what took so long, because that's your private business, but I will say I'm glad you finally saw sense, son." Then he had looked between them as his wife had done and grinned, "I suppose you'll both be my sons now." When he said it, he looked the happiest Dan had ever seen him.

Dan's parents had responded with more reserved congratulations. They'd long ago accepted Phil's place in Dan's life, but Dan's father had been raised Catholic, and it still tinged the family's attitudes. They'd never treated Phil badly, but neither had they been warmly welcoming. They both smiled over the Skype connection, but they couldn't hide the fact that they seemed more resigned than excited about their son's decision.

The real issue had been Dan's grandmother. They'd always been very close, but she was extremely religious and for the past seven years had persisted in referring to Phil always as Dan's "friend," "flatmate," or "work colleague." Dan didn't like to think the word about someone who had loved and supported him so much throughout his life, but he had some time ago accepted that she was homophobic.

"I can call her on my own," he offered. "We don't have to do it together."

Phil looked concerned. "Is that what you want to do?"

Dan licked his lips nervously and explained, "I'm just afraid … she might say something … you know how she is."

Nodding, Phil said, "Yeah, I know. But I'd rather we do this together, unless you really don't want to."

Dan took his hand, worried. "I know you're nervous about dealing with people who won't understand … and I can pretty much guarantee that she is **not** going to understand. I just don't want her to upset you."

Phil kissed him gently, then smiled. "You don't have to protect me. I'm the one who decided that I'm ready to do this, and I spent a good long while making sure I was certain. I'm ready to face the world with you, and that even includes scary grandmas."

Dan laughed, which he knew had been Phil's intention, and shrugged. "Okay. If you're sure."

As predicted, Dan's grandmother had not reacted well. When they'd told her they were getting married, she had only shaken her head disapprovingly and insisted, "Daniel, you don't need to do this. You'll find a nice girl. What about that girl you were dating?"

Dan sighed. "I haven't dated a girl since I was 17, grandma. Phil and I have been together for 7 years and we're really happy together. We love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together." She still looked as if she had just bitten into a lemon.

Dan felt Phil's hand on his and looked at him in question. Phil squeezed his hand and looked back at the laptop camera. "I know how special you are to Daniel, Mrs. Howell, so I look forward to getting to know you better now that we're going to be family. I know he loves you very much."

Her face softened marginally, but Dan knew she would most likely phone him tomorrow to try to talk him out of it again. He wondered how this would work over the years, whether she would ever be able to learn to respect his love for Phil. Of everyone in his family, she'd always been the one he felt closest to. She had always offered him a kind of gentle warmth and kindness that did not seem to come naturally to his parents, and he loved her fiercely for it. Perhaps his love for her and tolerance of her prejudices might even have actually helped him to be more patient with Phil's long struggle than he might otherwise have been. But if her prejudices ever threatened his relationship with Phil …

He hoped that he would never be forced to choose, because if he were ever forced to make that choice, he knew he would choose love over hate, and he would lose his grandmother from his life forever.

* * *

Dan didn't see why this was even a question. "Howell-Lester."

Phil was persistent. "No. Lester-Howell."

Dan sighed. "No. It's always been 'Dan and Phil,' so we should keep to the same order. Howell-Lester."

Phil nodded. "Right. You've had your turn at going first. My turn. Lester-Howell."

Dan tilted his head and put on his best patient, logical voice. "But 'Howell-Lester' is alphabetical. It's only fair."

Phil got a sort of sneaky look in his eyes, making Dan suspicious. Then Phil said, "But think about which one is more **aesthetic** , Dan. 'Howell-Lester' has three L's in a row in the middle. That just isn't … **aesthetically pleasing**."

Dan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're mocking me."

Phil wheedled, "But it's true, right?"

Dan sighed crossly. "I don't know…"

Phil left the room for a moment, then came back with a notepad Dan recognized from their trip to Japan, the paper delicately scattered with cherry blossoms that cascaded from a tree blooming at the top of the page. They almost never used paper notepads, so this one had obviously survived years stashed somewhere in the flat. Phil handed Dan the notepad and a pen.

"Write them both down," Phil said, gesturing to the paper.

Dan heaved another noisy sigh, wanting to make his impatience clear, and wrote across the cherry blossoms, _Daniel Howell-Lester_ , then, on the next line, _Daniel Lester-Howell_.

Phil watched his face and asked, "So … what do you think?"

Dan had to admit that Phil might have a point, but he really didn't want to give in. "It's not so bad…"

Phil scoffed, "Yeah, right. Now write them both in all caps."

Dan wrote, _DANIEL HOWELL-LESTER_ , then _DANIEL LESTER-HOWELL_ , then groaned, "Oh god." He tossed the pen and notepad onto the coffee table in disgust and put his hands over his face. "Those three L's … all in the middle together like that … arrrgh!" He brought his hands down and glanced at the innocent notepad again. "And the other one … it has kind of a nice balance and symmetry, with the two L's in the center and two L's at the end. But … those three L's in 'HOWELL-LESTER'…" He made an exaggerated gagging noise. "Okay, you're right: I couldn't deal with that for the rest of my life. We'll go with Lester-Howell." He sulked, "I hope you're happy."

Dan saw Phil's right index finger stroke the platinum ring he wore on his other hand as he said softly, "I am. Aren't you?"

Dan fought it—he really did—but he could feel a smile start to bloom on his face. He still tried to grouse, though. "Okay. Fine. Yeah, I am happy. I don't like to **admit** it, because I feel like I'm losing an argument, but I am. I **am** happy."

Phil's face seemed lit from within when he said, "I love you, Daniel Lester-Howell."

Dan held up his hands. "Whoa there, cowboy! You have to make an honest man of me before you can call me that." He grinned.

Phil grinned back. "I can't wait."

* * *

Dan really didn't want to bring this up, but they were going to have to leave the flat at some point, and then it would become an issue. He hadn't been thinking about it before, but now…

He sat beside Phil on the sofa and took his left hand, gently caressing the ring shining on Phil's finger. "You know, I spent a long time choosing these engagement rings … but I actually think we probably shouldn't wear them."

Phil looked distressed. "Why? Is it the coming out issue? Because I'm really okay with that now. I mean, I know in a perfect world we'd obviously really prefer to continue keeping our personal lives private, but … we've talked about starting a family, Dan. I think it'd be pretty hard to convince **anybody** that we're just friends if we start adopting kids together."

"Except maybe my grandma," Dan joked darkly.

Phil smiled slightly to acknowledge the jest but didn't reply.

Dan stopped. Rewound. "Wait, did you say 'kids,' plural?"

Phil shrugged shyly and looked down, then back up to meet Dan's gaze. He was giving puppy dog eyes. "I thought one kid might be lonely. We could see how it goes…"

Dan hugged him. "Let's see how it goes. If we don't accidentally kill the first one within a couple days…"

Phil groaned a laugh and covered his face with his hands. "Don't even joke about that! You're giving me 'Who's Your Daddy?' flashbacks! Our kid is going to crawl around intentionally looking for the bleach and electrical sockets."

Dan admitted, "I've been figuring we'd wait a few years, anyway, before we even start thinking about it."

Phil nodded. "Wise man." Then he looked confused. "But if it isn't about the coming out issue, why are you not wanting to wear the rings?"

Dan sighed. This hurt. "It's not that I don't **want** to wear them, because I do! It's that … well … I love our fans … but some of them are a little…"

Phil leaned back in his chair, eyes wide. "Oh."

Dan grimaced. "Yeah. I mean, if they wait around airports for hours when they know we're just trying to catch a plane, imagine what they'd do if they knew we were planning a wedding."

Phil sighed. "Some of them would spend months trying to find out where and when."

Dan nodded. "And I don't want the most important moment of my life getting interrupted by a fan running in to ask for a selfie in the middle of our vows. And I don't want to have to establish some kind of security perimeter to prevent it, either."

Phil looked unhappy. "So we don't wear the rings?" He looked down at the platinum band on his finger with its winking aquamarine stone.

Dan sighed. "I think we probably shouldn't. Not until after the ceremony."

Phil made an exaggerated pouty face and begged, "Maybe just around the flat?" which made Dan laugh.

Dan knew just how he felt. "And maybe we should move up the date we were planning."

So they started making plans for something maybe a month away, determined that they'd somehow make it happen because they didn't want to wait.

* * *

"Okay. So. The vows. Do we want to just each write them separately and surprise each other at the ceremony, or talk about them a little bit?"

Phil pondered. "Well, it would be kind of weird if they were dramatically different in tone or something."

"Yeah. So. Maybe talk about some themes we want to touch on?"

"Honesty."

"Trust."

"Kindness."

"Patience."

Phil nodded vigorously. "Definitely patience! I can't believe you put up with me these past few months!"

Dan was honestly surprised. " **Me** being patient with **you**? I was thinking about **you** being patient with **me**!"

Phil gaped at him. "How could you be thinking that after everything I put you through? You've had the patience of a saint!"

Dan wasn't going to let Phil beat himself up about this forever. "Think about it, though. I mean, the bigger picture. Yeah, the past few months were really hard, but we were talking, I could tell you were working through some serious shit, and it was hard work for you. But have you forgotten that you sat through my daily pathetic angst for more than a **year** when I was at uni, and thinking about dropping out, then dropping out and worrying that I was throwing my life away? You never told me to hurry the fuck up and make a decision. You never told me to quit the whining. You listened to me every single day, and you let me cry on your shoulder, and you didn't tell me what to do but you did tell me your opinions, and you gave me the time and space to work it out on my own while still giving me support through the whole thing."

"Dan … that was a long time ago," Phil said dismissively. "You were just a kid then."

Dan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, but how long ago was it that you last found me face down on the hallway carpet in some kind of downward spiral of existential doubt about the meaninglessness of trying to accomplish anything in a world where we're all just going to die and nothing really matters?"

Phil bit his lip. "Um. Okay, yeah. That was more recent."

Dan nodded, then continued, "And it's happened a lot. For **years**. And you're always patient with me when it happens. You don't tell me to get my emo ass up off the carpet or hurry me to just get over it. You hang out with me and talk to me, let me talk to you, listen to what I have to say and tell me what you think in return. We do it **together**. And sometimes you leave me alone when I need it. You try to understand where I'm coming from, and you're patient with me. You're **always** patient with me. **You're** the one who has the patience of a saint, Phil."

Phil still had that hangdog guilty expression on his face, though. "It's not the same. You asked me to marry you, and I said no! And I said terrible things! Then I made you sit around for months waiting for me!"

Dan was determined to make Phil see his perspective in this. "You didn't way no, and you didn't 'make' me do anything. You said you needed to think. So you did a lot of thinking, and you worked through your shit, and you came up with the **obviously** right decision to marry my ass. And now we're moving on … together. We're past it. But you're still going to find me face down in the hallway once in a while. And you're going to have to deal with me occasionally losing my shit over a video not being perfect enough. Admit it, Phil: I'm not that easy to deal with. But when it comes to the boyfriend lottery, I hit the fucking **jackpot**. You might leave cupboards open and steal my cereal, but you're otherwise pretty much perfect. You're like the nicest person I've ever met in my life! You're always there for me, and when we disagree you always let me calm down before you try to talk to me about it, and you don't mind if I stay up on Tumblr for hours instead of coming to bed with you, and you listen to me rant about things even when you don't care…"

Phil interrupted him, "Dan! Stop! You do realize that I'm happy with you, right?" He looked honestly concerned.

Dan squeezed Phil's hand and leaned over to kiss him gently, just a little one. "Yeah. That's my point. It makes no sense to me sometimes, but I do believe you. I've never doubted it, never doubted that you love me, never doubted **you** , not for a second. And that's why I was able to wait for a few months while you worked through something really big."

Phil blinked. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh. I just looked at the big picture. And in the big picture, I would have been a complete idiot to let you get away if there was **any** chance that we could work things out … if there was **any** chance that you might choose me … choose **this** …" And he gestured at the laptop where they'd been taking notes for the ceremony.

Waiting for Phil had been hard, but a life without him would have been a lot harder.

Phil leaned in for another kiss, and this one wasn't as little or as quick.

* * *

An hour or so later, they were back to planning. Dan said, "I want to make sure the ceremony is as much **'us'** as possible."

Phil suggested with a straight face, "So you're saying we should just play Mario Kart at the altar instead of reciting vows?"

"Ha bloody ha. You know what I mean."

Phil nodded affably. "Well, then, I should stand at the altar and you should walk down the aisle to meet me, because it would be symbolic. You were the one who found me on YouTube."

Dan pointed out, "Yeah, but it was really you who started the **relationship** by reaching out to respond to me on Twitter."

That threw Phil off topic, as he wondered, "Do we need to invite the bosses of YouTube and Twitter to the wedding, since they were instrumental in the formation of our relationship?"

Dan frowned. "I don't think so. But, wait, yeah, maybe we should invite Susan … uh … Susan … Wobblemijicki? Whatever her name is. She **is** kind of our boss."

Phil looked uncertain. "Do you really have to invite your boss to your wedding?"

Dan gestured helplessly. "Well, hell if I know! Do I look like a wedding planner?" He held up a hand. "Wait, don't answer that."

Phil's eyes lit up. "Maybe we should ask my mum."

Dan nodded eagerly. "Yeah, text her. Also, ask her which one of us has to walk down the aisle."

Phil had been in the middle of pulling out his phone, but he stopped to hold up a finger. "How about we **both** walk down the aisle together, side-by-side."

Dan thought about it. "Or we could not have an aisle at all, and just enter from opposite sides at the same time and meet in the middle."

Phil exclaimed with glee, "It's weird! Like us!"

Dan tilted his head and smirked, "We said we wanted to make the ceremony very 'us'. So I guess maybe it might have to be a little weird."

* * *

In the end, they decided not to invite Susan Wojcicki … or pretty much anyone else really … just close family. The guest list numbered only 15 people. No best man or groomsmen or flower girls … just Dan and Phil and the people they loved most. And some guy they didn't know who was going to perform the ceremony. But they Skyped with him beforehand and he asked a lot of good questions and got to know them a bit, so they figured he'd probably do a decent job of it. He emailed them in advance what he was planning to say, and it sounded fine.

Phil really wanted to hold the ceremony on the beach where Dan had first proposed. "It'll be symbolic!" he insisted. "Like I'm saying yes where I should have said it in the first place!"

"Phil," Dan said calmly. "Think about it. That beach is rocky. Imagine slowly walking toward the altar over those shifty pebbles, looking into my eyes instead of watching where you're going…"

Phil made a face. "Broken ankle for sure. You're right." He looked so disappointed—Dan felt bad for him.

"How about the hillside above the beach?" Dan suggested as a compromise, and Phil's face brightened.

But when they told her the plan, Phil's mum fretted that they couldn't have an outdoor wedding because rain was certain to ruin it. Dan joked that if they got rained on, they could just call it a baptismal blessing by the gods, but she didn't seem to think that was very funny, as she pointed out she was more worried about their formally-attired guests getting drenched. Dan and Phil were used to London's weather, she insisted, and rain was a much more constant threat on the Isle of Man than they realized from their fairly brief visits.

When they explained the reason behind their choice of location, however, she was obviously deeply touched by the sentiment and suggested a nearby lighthouse that overlooked the beach in question. The octagonal lighthouse interior was large enough to accommodate their small party easily, and the quirkiness of the location seemed to fit with their personalities. She was overjoyed when they declared it a brilliant suggestion.

They'd decided that they didn't want a really fancy ceremony, but they agreed that they wanted something appropriately formal and solemn to reflect the seriousness with which they viewed the commitment they were making, so Dan insisted that they both have clothes that were worthy of the occasion. Phil didn't care and would have been willing to wear a suit he already owned, but Dan dragged him down to Savile Row to get a bespoke suit made by a respected tailor. When they talked about what Phil wanted, the tailor ended up recommending a color called "zaffre," which is apparently what pretentious people call a shade of blue simultaneously dark and bright. They didn't want Phil to look gaudy or outshine Dan, just show a bit of color to reflect his personality. Dan thoroughly approved of the choice.

In a fit of whimsy, Dan showed Phil a picture online of some suede Gucci hightop sneakers in a color that would complement his suit perfectly, and Phil fell in love with them, placing his order immediately. "I'm less likely to trip in sneakers than in fancy dress shoes," he offered in defense of his choice, but Dan hadn't needed him to defend the shoes. He thought they were perfect or he wouldn't have shown Phil the photo.

Dan himself took the wedding as an excuse to get himself a Wales Bonner suit. She was a fairly new designer on the fashion scene, but he'd been a fan since he first noticed her unconventionally fluid vision of masculinity. He was excited to support her career and own a piece of her work, but since he didn't want to freak out his grandma or any of their other comparatively conservative guests, he chose one of her more traditional designs for this particular occasion: a black suit and tie with a shirt dyed to exactly match the color of Phil's suit. The tiniest peek of a white pocket handkerchief would be a nod to the white of Phil's shirt.

At the last minute, they decided to ask Phil's friend Mark, who had taken so many of the tour photos that made up DAPGO, to document the day, and he had gladly agreed.

Before they knew it, everything was planned. Now all they had to do was show up at the Isle of Man, wear some fancy clothes, say some fancy words, and they'd be married. Simple.

They were both nervous as hell … but at least they were nervous together.

* * *

When they woke in the Lesters' guest room that morning, they just lay there in the quiet for a while, looking at each other. Dan knew he probably had an embarrassingly soppy look on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to care right now. Phil was the one person in the world who was allowed to see his soppiest faces. And Phil was looking pretty soppy, himself.

"We're getting married today," Phil whispered in wonder, and they wrapped their arms around each other and held each other close for a long time.

* * *

They'd planned a short ceremony with fairly simple vows, because they felt they'd said all the most important things to each other already in private. This was merely their public declaration to the world, something to share with their families and make their commitment official.

Phil's mum had arranged the octagonal room inside the lighthouse with simple but beautiful decorations. A sort of trellised arch stood at one end of the room on a low dais with a podium where the registrar would stand. White and blue flowers of various kinds twined all over the trellis, and simple white cloth chair covers hid the folding chairs where guests would sit. Blue flowers decorated the ends of each row of chairs. The wide windows that surrounded the room let the hazy summer sunlight stream in to shine on the freshly oiled wood floor and walls. It looked perfect.

Dan and Phil went to hide in a small separate room while the guests arrived and seated themselves. While they both tugged at their jackets and fussed with their hair, they could hear the voices of their family members greeting each other and settling down as a recording of soft piano music Dan had chosen played in the background. When the music fell silent, they knew that meant the registrar had assumed his position before the assembly. Dan and Phil met each other's eyes, heaved a simultaneous deep breath, and waited for the signal.

When Dan heard Debussy's Claire de Lune start, he glanced at Phil again and they exchanged small nervous smiles and a reassuring squeeze of their hands as they waited the planned several seconds, then left their private lair.

They entered the octagonal room together through the door behind the rows of chairs, and turned apart to walk simultaneously, each alone, up the separate sides of the room until they both turned to meet at the dais and step onto it, facing each other in front of the registrar. Dan wasn't really aware of their audience, whether their eyes followed him and Phil as they walked, what expressions might be on his family's faces, whether Mark was somewhere taking photos—he could only think of Phil, and of the poem which had inspired Debussy to write this beautiful music. Phil was the source of this incredible happiness Dan sometimes still found so difficult to believe that he had found. Phil was the pale moonlight that had illuminated his life and melted his sadness into the ecstasy of love.

Standing on the dais, he reached out and Phil met him halfway. They held each other's hands as they had planned, and Phil's were a little sweaty with nerves. Dan smiled at him, trying to look reassuring, trying not to let his own jitters show. Why should he be feeling nervous? He certainly had no doubts! It was just … this was it. In a few minutes, they would be married. He really hoped when it was his turn to speak he didn't forget the vows he'd spent so many hours working on.

The music trailed off, and the room again filled with silence. The registrar looked from Dan to Phil, then back again, smiling in the blandly benign way friendly bureaucrats have. Then he looked out at their gathered family members and began to speak in a voice that rang pleasantly in the odd little room.

"Welcome, loved ones of Daniel Howell and Philip Lester, to witness the celebration of their joining in the joyous bonds of matrimony." The man kept talking for a few minutes, but Dan couldn't really focus on his words. He and Phil had okayed them in advance in email, but right now, in the moment, all he could see was Phil's eyes shining in the sunlight that came through the windows, and all he could hear was the beating of his own heart. Nothing else mattered. Then he jolted to attention when he heard the registrar say, "Daniel and Philip have both prepared some words to say. Philip, would you like to begin?"

Phil nodded, his hands squeezing Dan's a little harder, and Dan saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, but he looked into Dan's eyes with a joy Dan couldn't doubt as he began to speak. "Dan, I never knew it was possible for me to love anyone as much as I love you. I always knew I was kind of weird…" There were soft chuckles in the audience, but Dan's attention was all on Phil as he continued with a small smile, "I never thought I'd meet someone who understood me like you do, someone who would see my weirdnesses and love them, someone who would make me feel truly accepted and appreciated for everything I am. Even when I steal your cereal." A quick grin from Phil and more quiet chuckles from the audience. Then Phil's face settled into serious lines again. "Dan, when I look in your eyes, I see everything I want for our future: I see love, and trust, and patience, and kindness, and honesty even when it's something I don't want to hear. Because you challenge me to be a better person, and I love you all the more for that. I want to spend the rest of my life by your side, holding your hand and facing everything that the world might bring us, always together. So today I offer myself to you, body and soul, heart and mind, with the promise that for the rest of my life I will do everything in my power to be as good a partner to you as you have always been to me."

The registrar nodded and turned to Dan. "Daniel?"

Dan nodded and took a calming breath before he began. "Phil, I never knew it was possible for me to love anyone as much as I love you. My life was so dark before we met, and then suddenly you shone this bright sunlight into my heart and I have never been the same since. You make my life better every day, simply by being in it with me, and I don't know if I've ever really told you how grateful I am to you for that. Sometimes darkness still pulls at me, but you are always there to pull me back into the light, and I can't imagine my life without you—I don't want to. I want to spend every day with you for the rest of my life, sharing all of life's challenges and all of life's joys. I want to hold your hand when you need comfort, and I want to turn to you when it's me that needs support, because I know that we will always be there for each other. You will always be my favorite person on the planet, even after you've gotten old and wrinkly and aren't so ridiculously pretty anymore." A smattering of laughter. "I trust you with all my heart, and I promise to always try to be as kind and patient as you are by your very nature without even trying. I know I'll slip up sometimes, but I also know that you will forgive me and help me, just as you always have done. And I will try to always do the same. So today I offer myself to you, body and soul, heart and mind, with the promise that for the rest of my life I will do everything in my power to be as good a partner to you as you have always been to me."

The registrar nodded again, solemn and formal, before intoning, "Daniel and Philip would now like to exchange rings as a token of their commitment." Dan fished in his pocket, sure that he would have lost the ring. Or maybe Phil would have lost his ring. Nothing had gone wrong yet, which wasn't very "Dan and Phil," so he was just waiting for the inevitable disaster. But then his fingers felt the small circle of metal in his pocket and he pulled it out with a sigh of relief. The registrar said, "Daniel, please repeat after me. 'I, Daniel James Howell, take you, Philip Michael Lester, to be my wedded husband.'"

Dan fidgeted with the ring in his hand, then stopped, certain that he would drop it. "Um, I, Daniel James Howell, take you, Philip Michael Lester, to be my wedded husband." He slid the ring onto Phil's left ring finger with not too much effort, then grinned at him like a loon. Phil grinned back, and Dan looked down to see that the other ring was already in Phil's hand. He looked much calmer now than Dan was feeling.

Dan's stomach was doing an excited dance and he kept feeling like he might laugh out loud. He tried to stand still and act like a normal person getting married. They were almost done!

He missed the registrar, but clearly heard Phil when he said, "I, Philip Michael Lester, take you, Daniel James Howell, to be my wedded husband." And then Phil's hands were gentle on his as he held the platinum band Dan had purchased so long ago with such dreams of this day, and he slid the ring onto Dan's finger smoothly and easily. Dan looked up from the ring into Phil's eyes, and he could feel the sting of impending tears. He was **not** going to cry!

Now came the part Dan and Phil had requested, not wanting only individual promises but also a final moment when they joined together in voicing one last vow. The registrar asked, "Do you, Philip Michael Lester, and you, Daniel James Howell, take each other to be lawfully wedded husbands from this day forward, to love and support each other through good times and bad, until death shall part you?"

Dan and Phil, holding hands tightly, looked at the registrar and said together, "We do," then turned to look into each other's eyes again.

The registrar's voice seemed to ring through the room as he announced, "I now pronounce you legally wed." He gave them a brief moment to gaze wonderingly at each other, then gestured for them to face their families. "I present to you Daniel and Philip Lester-Howell." Their families clapped, some more enthusiastically than others. Dan saw his grandma's polite society face as he glanced around, but also heard Martyn give out a whoop of approval. He turned to look at Phil again, and they walked forward to the group waiting for them.

Phil's mum, sitting in the front row with Phil's dad and Dan's parents, rushed forward to hug them both before anyone else even had a chance. When she hugged Dan, she sobbed, "We love you so much, Dan!" Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she patted at her face and eyes with a handkerchief when she pulled away.

And then they were swamped with hugs and congratulations from every direction, separated by the throng of excited well-wishers as everyone came forward, all talking at once. Dan's dad shook his hand first, then pulled him into an awkward hug without saying anything before passing him to his mum, who hugged him a bit more warmly and said, "I'm so happy for you, Bear." Dan smiled down at her when she released him, and then he glanced across the room to try to meet Phil's eyes.

Phil was hugging Cornelia, who was chattering enthusiastically, but his eyes when they met Dan's said that this moment was really about the two of them alone, no matter how many other people might be in the room.

* * *

The small reception at the Lesters' house spilled into their lovely back garden, where Phil's mum had erected a marquee in case of the dreaded rain. The sky, however, had cleared, and sun now shone on the happily mingling group among the profusion of tea rose bushes, hyacinths, and primroses.

Holding Phil's hand while talking with Martyn and Cornelia, Dan saw his grandmother in conversation with Phil's mum and wondered if perhaps in time Kathryn's warmth might help thaw his grandma's reserve. Later, in passing, he heard his grandma say, "That's such a kind offer, Kathryn, and it really is so lovely here. I'd be very glad to visit sometime, as you're kind enough to invite me. We **are** family now, after all." Dan's heart swelled, just knowing that she was making such an effort for his sake. She might still be uncomfortable with the idea of him and Phil, but Phil's welcoming family was sure to win her over eventually.

He turned back to his own conversation in time to hear Cornelia ask whether he and Phil had written their vows together. Phil replied, "We collaborated on the first and last sentences, because we wanted the ceremony to feel cohesive, but neither of us knew what the other was going to say in between." He looked into Dan's eyes. "What you said was so beautiful."

Dan leaned down for a brief kiss—nothing too heavy in front of the entire fam—and replied with a heart-felt, "You, too."

They ended up separated, but Phil found him again eventually, and his cheeks were pink.

"What's up?" Dan asked, taking his hand again. He couldn't seem to stop doing that today. It just felt good to be joined with Phil in some physical, tangible way after such an emotionally intense experience.

His husband. Phil was his husband now. He squeezed Phil's hand, then remembered the funny look on his face.

Phil leaned close to tell him quietly, "We aren't staying the night here in the guest room."

Confused, Dan asked, "What? Why? Then where are we staying?"

Phil shifted from one foot to the other, an obvious sign that he was uncomfortable, then said, "My parents rented us one of the little cottages near the village."

Dan tilted his head in question, knowing Phil would explain without him asking.

Phil put his lips right next to Dan's ear and whispered, "My mum insisted. She said tonight is the one night in my life when I shouldn't have to worry about my mum overhearing me in the next room."

Dan laughed out loud and pulled Phil into a hug. Phil really did have the best family.

"I guess maybe we haven't always been as discreet as we thought."

Phil brushed even brighter and Dan laughed again, loud and happy.

* * *

A month later, their suitcases still unpacked from the honeymoon, they sat side-by-side on the sofa in their flat, each with their laptop open on their knees, both with Twitter windows prepped. They exchanged glances.

"Ready?" Dan asked, and Phil nodded. "1, 2, 3!" They hit the buttons at the same time. Dan's Twitter name changed at the same moment that Phil's did.

Then they turned to Tumblr, then Instagram, and so on, until everywhere on social media they were Daniel Lester-Howell and Phil Lester-Howell. Then they closed their laptops, not planning to open them again until tomorrow. Tonight was for them. Tonight was for anime and cuddles on the couch and long kisses and no worries about anything or anyone outside this cozy flat.

"Pizza for dinner?" Dan asked casually, and his wonderful, beautiful, **amazing** husband nodded with the loveliest smile in the world.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** One brief epilogue to come, and then we're done!


	8. Chapter 8: Epilogue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Thank you to agingphangirl and inkyhowlter on Tumblr for all their help with this fic, but also specifically for giving me feedback on this epilogue. I was feeling awkward about it for some reason.

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Epilogue**

They first met Maya when she was four years old.

The process to get approved as adopters had taken almost a year, and then they'd spent another year waiting for the adoption agency to choose a match for them. They went through a lot of interviews, and a lot of forms, and a lot of training courses, and a lot of analyses by various bureaucrats regarding their fitness to be parents, and a lot of personality assessments to decide which kind of child would be best suited for them.

And then they finally got to meet Maya.

She didn't seem nervous at all that first day, but Dan and Phil were both terrified that the meeting wouldn't go well. What if she didn't like them?

She seemed immediately fascinated by Phil's skin color. "You're so white!" she exclaimed, climbing shamelessly onto his lap and pressing her little hand to his cheek, her face alight with excitement at the contrast of her dark skin against his paleness.

Dan laughed. "Yup. Phil's probably the whitest person you'll ever see." He grinned at his husband.

Phil was watching Maya with wide eyes. "Would it bother you to have a daddy who has white skin?" Clearly he was worried that Maya would prefer a parent who looked more like her, that she wouldn't want to be adopted by people of a different race.

Maya just shrugged. "I like it," she proclaimed. "You look like snow. I like snow."

Phil had smiled at her. "I like snow, too. Do you make snow angels?"

Maya nodded eagerly. "Will it snow today?"

Her small hand was still pressed to Phil's cheek as if she had forgotten the intimate contact. Phil told her sadly, "Not for a couple months yet, I think. But maybe when it does, we could make snow angels together."

She nodded again. "I bet you make really **big** snow angels."

Dan and Phil both laughed at that. They were like titans compared to this adorably pocket-sized child.

The social worker observing the visit had brought some toys, and Maya played with them a bit. She seemed to prefer the action figures to the dolls, though sometimes she made them interact with each other in little conversations that often also included stuffed animals. Dan thought she'd make a good YouTuber, coming up with her skits and scenes. The stuffed bear seemed to be leading a few of the action figures on some kind of adventure.

At some point, Dan decided to ask the question he'd been most hesitant about. Maya was happily engaged in tying and untying Phil's shoelaces. Dan was pretty sure she was better at it than Phil was. "Maya?" She looked up at him from where she was sitting on the floor. "How would you feel about having two daddies instead of a dad and mum?"

She didn't say anything for a moment, looking deep in thought, then straightened her spine a bit and said solemnly, "That depends."

"What does it depend on?" Dan asked patiently, aware of the social worker listening to their conversation.

Maya held up two fingers. "Two things," she said.

Dan and Phil waited anxiously, uncertain what concerns she might have about being adopted by a gay couple.

"Do you know how to make ponytails?" she asked, face deadly serious.

Dan and Phil both laughed in surprise, and Dan said, "I think we can probably figure it out. Phil wears pigtails sometimes." He turned to grin at Phil, who scowled.

"I only did that once. For a video," Phil explained with a blush, as if Maya cared.

"Whatever you say, **Phillipa** ," Dan teased.

But Maya was gazing raptly into Phil's face. "You wear ponytails too?" she asked in obvious awe.

Phil couldn't help but burst into a wide smile at her reaction. "Not often. But maybe for you I would."

"For me?" Maya asked in the most astonished and reverent voice Dan had ever heard.

Phil's smile softened, and he said quietly, "If it would make you happy."

She giggled and said, "It would. Then you would be like me. And I would be like you. That would be fun."

Dan was desperate to hug her in that moment, but knew that wasn't allowed during an initial visit. "What's the other thing?"

Maya looked confused. "What other thing?"

"You said that having two daddies depended on two things. What's the other thing?"

Her stare was intent and almost businesslike when she asked, "Do you like cartoons?"

Dan and Phil looked at each other, then at Maya. Obviously, they had found their miniature soulmate. Dan told her soberly, "We watch cartoons every morning."

Maya's eyes went wide. " **Every** morning?"

Dan grinned. "Yup."

"Would I get to watch them with you?"

The idea that she might not be allowed to watch made Dan wonder about the homelife she'd experienced thus far, but he just nodded, not sure he could get words out.

She beamed. "I like daddies better than mommies, anyway. Mommies are mean." And with that statement, she broke Dan's heart. He'd read the description of her family background and knew about the abuse she'd suffered. He ached to give her the kind of life she deserved. He met Phil's eyes, and saw tears threatening there. He reached out to take Phil's hand and gave it a squeeze. They both looked at Maya, and he knew that they'd both already fallen in love.

* * *

Dan was in the kitchen when he heard Phil lean out the back door and yell into the garden, "Susan 1, Susan 2, time to come in!"

Dan sighed. "I told you not to call them that, Phil. It's confusing for them."

Maya came running and tackled Phil around the waist. "Dinner time!" she yelled. "I want chicken fingers!"

Phil swept her up into his arms and said, "You **always** want chicken fingers." Maya just giggled. "Help me prove something to your Da. What's your name?" He tickled her side a little and winked at her in an exaggerated way.

"Susan 1," she replied promptly, then chortled with laughter in Phil's arms.

Dan rolled his eyes, but smiled at the sound. "It's confusing for Abby, anyway," he insisted.

Phil was closing the back door now, as Abby had come running in as well, tail wagging. "What's your name?" Phil asked Abby in a serious voice, as if expecting her to answer him. She just stared up into his face, wondering if maybe this focused attention indicated a treat was coming. Her tail continued to wag hopefully.

"Susan 2!" Maya screamed. She and Phil burst into uncontrollable giggles and Dan just fondly shook his head at their antics. He might try to be the voice of reason around here, but he didn't really try all that hard. It didn't matter that much if Abby also answered to whatever random name Phil decided to call her today. If they called her "Abby" in the park, she would come, and that was all that was really important. He'd let Phil have his fun. As usual.

Phil came into the kitchen still carrying Maya. At six, she was pretty big to carry, but he and Phil were giants and she had a slight build, so it wasn't that hard. She had her legs wrapped around Phil's waist, her arms around his neck, and her little pig-tailed head resting on his chest. Phil held her securely. Precious cargo.

He leaned over to give Dan a peck on the cheek. "Somebody wants chicken fingers," he said, as if Dan hadn't heard their conversation or anticipated their daughter's demand.

"There will be chicken fingers," he allowed, "as long as everyone also eats some broccoli."

Maya frowned. "Raw?" she asked severely. She was a funny kid, all fun and games one minute, then serious business the next. And she was going through a stage where she would only eat vegetables if they were raw.

Dan put a hand to his chest, miming shock that she would even need to ask. "Of course raw!"

Over dinner, they talked about the upcoming trip to Florida. "Will you like spending a few days with Grandma and Grandpa Lester while we're at work?" Phil asked Maya. Vidcon was coming up, and they'd developed a system where the Lesters showed up early and took Maya for the weekend Dan and Phil were at the convention, then the whole family vacationed together afterward. The Lesters enjoyed getting to spend a few days alone with their granddaughter, and Dan and Phil were able to stay in contact with their subscribers without exposing Maya to too much public attention.

They couldn't avoid all attention, of course, but their fans and the media seemed to respect their repeated requests that they be allowed to keep their personal lives private. There would always be those fans who didn't understand boundaries, just as there had always been, but overall things were good.

* * *

In bed that night, with Maya sleeping in her bedroom across the hall, Dan and Phil exchanged the deft touches of lovers who have known each other long and well but for whom the heat of that first deep passion has never truly waned. And afterward, they lay in each other's arms and talked in quiet voices about unimportant things, and important things, and all the many sorts of things that married couples share.

And it was really, really good.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who has followed this story. I know it got rocky at some points, but I hope the "happily ever after" ending promised by the title has made up for all the angst. :)


End file.
